Man's Best Friend
by Dee678
Summary: Andy's away undercover and Sam is sitting around moping over how badly he screwed things up. Thankfully he now has Boo, who is about to play a bigger part in sorting out that mess that is his life than Sam could ever imagine. Set post 3 x 13 and moving on from my original three chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue or a dog, but I wish I did

When Sam woke up the first thing he was aware of was the heat emanating from the body next to him in bed. He sighed, his eyes still screwed shut, and snuggled closer. He could feel long silky hair tickling his chin and he brushed it away.

"McNally," he murmured. He felt the mattress dip and heard the duvet rustle and suddenly there was hot breath on his cheek. Then the hideous sensation of a wet, rough tongue licking the side of his face.

'What the..?"

His eyes snapped open and he sat upright.

"Boo! Get off! You know you are not allowed on the bed, you stupid mutt."

The dog barked, and then leaned forward to lick him again.

"No," Sam said, pushing her away. "Bad girl."

Boo Radley looked back at him, all big brown eyes, silky chestnut fur and great big lolling tongue.

"I said, get off the bed," snapped Sam. "Down!" He pushed the dog away until she got the hint, and jumped off the bed. But she didn't go far. She sat on the floor next to the bed, her head cocked to one side and those eyes boring into him.

"Oh for God's sake," he muttered. "Don't look at me like that."

It had been three days since he'd gone to the pound to collect a cute, well-behaved little puppy McNally would love and instead come home with this goofy, boisterous, disobedient Irish setter. She was the last dog he'd intended leaving with when he walked into the dog enclosure, he'd had his eye on either the fluffy shih tzu cross that he just knew McNally would think was adorable, or the mutt that looked like it was a mixture of at least 10 different breeds, but predominantly Labrador with a large dollop of collie thrown in. It had to be one of those two, he'd decided. But then every time he'd walked past the cage housing the setter, she'd gone mad, barking and jumping up against the bars.

"You've got a fan," said the volunteer who was showing him around. "That setter likes the look of you."

"Yeah, not quite what I had in mind," he said, walking past it towards the other cages. The shih tzu was very cute, not his sort of dog but, after all, he was buying it for Andy. The mutt was more his preference but would Andy like it? He wasn't sure. He walked backwards and forwards between the two, each time passing the setter who went mad when it saw him. Eventually he went over to its cage, and patted it through the bars.

"Male or female?" he asked the volunteer.

"Female," she said. "Name's Ginger. She's only a year old."

"Shame," said Sam. "I want a male." He turned back to the male mutt.

"Let me know when you've made up your mind," said the woman. "I'll be back at the desk."

"Okie doke," said Sam. The mutt stared at him, panting. It looked more like a Boo Radley than the fluffy thing. But he wasn't sure if he could imagine McNally with it. He walked back towards the shih tzu and the setter went nuts again as he passed.

"Would you just shut up?" he growled at it. The dog stopped barking, sat back and looked at him with her head cocked to one side. There was something about the way she looked at him with those penetrating brown eyes that made him stop in his tracks. He stared back at her for a long moment. "Ah, damn," he said.

Ten minutes later he was filling in the paper work to take the setter home.

The moment he walked in the door and watched the dog tear round his living room, jumping on the sofa and then chewing the rug, he wondered if he'd made a huge mistake. Now, three days later, he was sure he had. The dog was nuts. The woman at the pound had explained that she had belonged to an elderly lady who had got her as a puppy but couldn't keep her under control and now he could see why. He was going to have to take her to obedience classes and she would need to be walked at least twice a day to use up some of that excess energy. He was also going to have to work hard to convince her to answer to Boo instead of Ginger.

Sighing, Sam threw back the covers and swung his feet out of bed and onto the floor. It seemed like every day he woke up in a foul mood and today was no exception. Waking up to a big hairy pooch licking his face didn't help. Why the hell had he ever thought owning a dog would be a good idea?

* * *

It was McNally's fault. That night he sat in the Penny, waiting for her to show up, he'd got fixated on the idea of getting a dog. A dog would bring them back together. When he'd mentioned it to her earlier outside the locker room she'd actually smiled, a tiny little smile that was like a beacon of hope in among the disappointment and fury she'd unleashed on him. They'd get a dog, and they'd share its care, and take it for walks down by the lake together. He never normally went in for all that hand holding in public stuff – a couple of times he and McNally had walked out of the station hand-in-hand but that was pretty rare – but he could just see them strolling along the foreshore, their fingers entwined, the dog trotting along beside them.

He was thinking this when Peck came and sat beside him.

"What are you doing, drinking alone?"

"Looks that way," he said.

If McNally was coming, she should have been there by now. Maybe she had gone home to get changed. Maybe she was planning on coming but not until she had kept him waiting, which would be her way of getting back at him for all the hurt he had caused her. He couldn't exactly blame her if that's what she was doing.

But it was getting late now, and every time the door to the Penny opened and he saw it wasn't her, a little bit more of the hope that had pooled in his chest drained away.

Eventually Peck, who was waiting for Nick, had said, "I don't think he's coming. I think we're drinking alone." She was right. Collins had stood her up; McNally wasn't coming either. His attempts to get her back hadn't worked.

Maybe she just needed a bit more time. Maybe it was all too much in one day. It had been a hell of a day after all. She'd been punched in the face, had a gun pointed at her head then been left holding a grenade that could have killed her. His declaration of love and his plea for her to ignore his behaviour over the past six weeks and take him back was probably just too much to cope with on top of everything else. He got that.

She just needed a bit of space. She could sleep on it tonight, and tomorrow they could start all over again. He would do everything he'd promised – cook her dinner, take out her trash, walk her dog… their dog. Their Boo Radley.

He would prove to her that he really did love her, that he'd screwed up badly after Jerry died but it had all been too much for him. He'd been so confused, so overwhelmed by the fact that the way he felt about her was affecting his ability to do his job properly that he had pulled back into himself and ending up shutting her out. He didn't mean to do it permanently; he just needed time and space. But he hadn't been able to say that to her that night in the car park at the Penny. Instead of telling her that his problem was the fact he loved her too much, he had done the one thing he'd promised he'd never do and walked away.

He drove home barely able to see out the windshield that night, and he wasn't sure if that was down to the rain or the unshed tears in his eyes. He was doing the right thing, he told himself. He really couldn't be a cop and be with her – he cared about her so much it made it difficult to think straight. And God forbid if anything should ever happen to her on the job. Losing Jerry had ripped him to bits; how the hell would he ever cope if something happened to McNally? Surely it was better to spare himself the possibility of greater pain further down the track by pulling the plug on things now?

He'd kept up that line of thinking over the next few weeks, telling himself it was better not to feel anything. He needed to be numb to keep going. Evetually he realised he was being a bastard – her pain was written all over beautiful face – but he kept telling himself that maybe it was the best thing in the long run. He hated himself for asking her for his keys back; in fact he'd only wanted an excuse to talk to her and had blurted that out because he couldn't think of anything else to say. He'd hated himself for ignoring her phone calls and texts and kept telling himself it was for the best.

And then gradually he'd found the anger and the grief beginning to slip away. He realised that throwing away what he had with McNally was stupid but he didn't know how to fix things. She'd clearly moved on, judging by the way she'd snapped, "It's not your responsibility any more" when he'd waited to see how she was after the shooting in the cells.

He'd made a complete mess of everything, he knew that now. If only he was like her, and able to express his emotions, even if that meant blurting them out at completely inappropriate times. He wished there was some way that she could read his thoughts, see how sorry he was and how much he missed her, so he didn't have to try to put the words into clumsy sentences that were bound to come out all wrong. But he feared there was no chance of her realising how he felt after the last few weeks. Things had gone too far and he didn't know how to take the first step towards sorting them out.

And then he had seen her standing there, that grenade in her hand, and it was if someone had turned a light on and he was suddenly no longer stumbling around in the dark trying to work out what to do. He could see everything clearly. He loved Andy. He wanted to be with her, she was it for him. He had to tell her. If anything happened to her… well he couldn't bear it if she didn't know how he truly felt.

So he had done a McNally and blurted out his feelings at the most inappropriate time imaginable and in the most ridiculous way. She looked like she didn't believe him, which was why he had gone to her in the locker room later to make sure she knew that he meant it. Only he had gone and screwed that up too, making some lame joke about Grey's Anatomy when he just should have said it again. _I love you Andy_.

Well, that was enough screwing things up. He loved her, and he hoped that she still loved him, despite everything, and he was going to make it work, no matter what it took.

He looked at his watch. It was more than three hours since he'd asked her to meet him for a drink. She wasn't coming. But he couldn't leave, not just yet. Next to him Peck sighed, looked at her watch and said, "This is a waste of time. I'm going."

He nodded. "Sure. I'll just sit here and wait a little longer."

"All right." She downed what was left of her drink and slid off the bar stool. "See you tomorrow."

"Night Peck."

"Night Sam. Hey…" She turned back to him.

"What?" "Look, you and McNally…"

"Yeah?" He didn't want another lecture from another ex-rookie. It had been bad enough having Diaz on his case.

"I hope you sort things out. I just think the two of you are meant to be together, you know? You always were, even when she was with Callaghan."

"Uh…" He wasn't sure what to say to that.

"You know, I saw the two of you, that first week we were on the job. You were in the car park here about to leave and she came out to talk to you about something."

That something was Emily Starling, and how safe she was from Anton Hill. It had been their first day together as TO and rookie. He would never forget it.

"One minute you were talking and then next… I thought you were going to kiss. It was like there was this magnetic pull between the two of you."

He raised an eyebrow at that. He wasn't about to tell Peck that that was the moment he realised he had fallen for his gorgeous young rookie, even though they barely knew each other.

"I gave Andy a hard time about it, but she said she wasn't interested in you."  
Great, he thought. At least she had changed her mind later.

"I always thought you'd end up together." Gail smiled, a slightly sad, wistful smile. "I still hope you do, for what it's worth."

He studied her for a moment. Okay, so she was a bitch most of the time but there was a nice side to Gail Peck.

"Uh, thanks," he said.

"So, tomorrow's another day, right?"

"Right. Tomorrow is another day. Night, Peck." He gave her a small, tight smile and watched as she walked out of the Penny.

Yeah, there was always tomorrow to try to get McNally back, and the day after. And the day after that.

Or so he had thought.

_Next: Sam squeezed his right hand into a fist. It would be so easy just to take two steps over to Callaghan and plant one right in the middle of his smug face. But he couldn't. It would cost him his job and probably any remaining chance he had with Andy if she ever found out. And if he was honest with himself, he had to admit Callaghan was right. She most likely had wanted to get away from him, after the way he had treated her. He had driven her away._


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, favourited and followed this story. I couldn't help wondering how Sam found that Andy had gone undercover and how he responded. Here's my take on what could have happened. Rated T for language. **

Boo Radley watched Sam as he got out of bed and made his way across the bedroom to bathroom, stepping over piles of clothes that hadn't quite made it to the dirty laundry basket. A few minutes later, when he opened the door to return to his room she was sat right in the doorway and he nearly tripped over her.

"Jeez Boo, could you give me a bit of space?" he grumbled.

Boo started barking excitedly, like she had at this time for the last three mornings. "Yeah, all right," he said.

She leapt about, all skittish, as she followed him downstairs to the kitchen. As soon as he opened the back door she ran out into the yard and stopped to squat by a tree. Leaving the door open, he went back up to his room and had just pulled on a pair of sweat pants, a clean t-shirt and a hoodie when he heard Boo bounding up the stairs. She jumped up at him, pleased to see him again and he pushed her down.

"Dumb dog, you only saw me two minutes ago," he said. He sat down on the bed and pulled on his socks and trainers. Boo nudged her way between his arms, trying to lie her head on his knee as he bent over to do up his laces.

"Boo, go away." She barked at him, and he pushed her away again. "Haven't you heard of personal space?"

She followed him back downstairs, nearly tripping him up as she got under his feet. She began to bark and jump up again when Sam grabbed the leash from where it was looped over the back door handle and by the time he had locked the door behind him she was over by the side gate, chasing her tail and working herself into a frenzy.

"Calm down," he muttered, snapping the leash onto her collar. She really was seriously demented, this dog. Ten minutes later, when they got to the park, she was still leaping around like a lamp in spring, even though they'd run all the way from his house. There was no such thing as taking Boo for a walk – instead she took him for a run.

He let her off the leash and watched as she took off, her long legs pumping and her ears flying back. Somebody was enjoying themselves. He realised he felt a tinge of jealousy. At the moment he couldn't imagine ever enjoying himself again. Not without Andy.

After that night at the Penny when she failed to turn up, he'd gone home and formulated a plan of action to get Andy back. He would get the dog, of course, and he'd get on the net and look up some recipes he could make her for dinner. He would also book at table for two at that new Italian restaurant she'd been going on about. And he would look at vacations. Somewhere hot and sunny, where they could swim together in crystal clear water. Not the Dominican Republic, that would remind them too much of Jerry, but maybe the Bahamas or even the US Virgin Islands. So what if it meant flying? So it scared the living daylights out of him. He could do it. He would do it for her.

Just before he switched the light off, he had sent her a text. _OK, so you're still mad at me. But I meant it Andy. I love you._

He had gone to sleep picturing McNally on a white sand beach in a bikini. She would take him back, she had to.

The following morning he checked his phone the instant he woke up. Nothing. She could still be sulking. That was OK. Today he would start Operation Win Back Andy. He wasn't going to give up on her. Not this time.

He made sure he was at the barn early, despite his slight hangover. He was the first in the parade room and he sat in his usual position at the back with his eyes fixed on the door. Everyone started piling in but there was no sign of McNally. He fidgeted in his seat, anxious to see her. Frank began his briefing but there was still no Andy. Sam did not hear a word Frank said.

Frank finished with "Serve, protect and let's all get through this shift in one piece," and Sam got up, intent on asking his sergeant if he knew where McNally was. But before he got the chance, Frank pulled his cell phone out of a pocket and answered a call. He strode out of the room towards his office, deep in conversation, and Sam knew better than to interrupt. Instead he walked up to the detectives office and stopped by Nash's desk.

"Uh, Nash, you wouldn't happen to know where McNally is today?" He tried to keep his voice light but Traci knew what the situation was between them. Hell, she most likely knew what he'd said to McNally yesterday; they'd probably had a long girly chat about it on the phone last night while McNally was standing him up at the Penny.

"No idea," said Traci, looking unimpressed that he'd bothered to ask. "Maybe Frank's given her the day off. She did have a pretty big day yesterday. You know, grenade and all."

"Yeah." He ran a hand over his chin. "Uh, thanks."

He turned and headed for the coffee machine, where he poured himself his third coffee of the morning. Then he collected the keys for 1509 and waited in the car for Diaz, his partner for the day. He sent Andy another text: _Missing you. Hope everything is all right. I love you Andy_. _I do._

One look from Sam was enough to make Diaz realise that his partner wasn't in the mood for mindless chatter and the younger man kept his thoughts to himself. They had a busy day dealing with two burglaries, an assault, a traffic accident and a missing kid who turned out to have got accidentally locked in a garden shed, and it passed quickly.

When Sam got back to the barn in the afternoon the first thing he did was make a beeline for Frank's office, but he had two white shirts in with him and the door was shut. He grabbed himself another coffee and sat down at a desk to make a start on his paperwork, looking around the bullpen just in case McNally had come in late.

"She's not here," said a voice in his ear. She turned around to see that Peck had sat down at the desk next to him. "And neither is Nick."

"Is he off sick?"

Peck shook her head. "I doubt it, he was fine yesterday. It's like he's just vanished off the face of the earth. He hasn't returned any of my calls or texts, which is not like Nick."

Vanishing off the face of the earth, not returning calls… Sam instinctively knew what that could mean. He'd been there, done that, a few times himself. An undercover operation might explain why there was no Nick, but McNally? Surely she wouldn't have gone undercover too? It had to be a coincidence that they'd both gone awol, both not answered texts. But the more he thought about it, the more he began to wonder if that's where she was. But why would McNally be asked to go undercover? And who would have organised it? Not Boyd, that was for sure. He couldn't stand McNally after the business with Jamie Brennan. He'd never want her for an op.

So who…? Ah. Callaghan. There had been some whispers about his precious task force involving some UC work. Of course. And wouldn't it just make Callaghan's day to be able to separate him and Andy by sending her under. But would Andy have really applied for the task force? Hell, maybe she had but he wouldn't have known anything about it because they'd hardly spoken in the last few weeks.

He pushed his chair back and got up.

"What is it?" asked Peck. "Do you know where he is?"

"Maybe."

He walked through the bull pen and around the corner to Luke's office. He didn't bother knocking, he just bowled in. Luke looked up from his computer.

"Yes?" The blond detective scowled at him.

"McNally – is she undercover?" growled Sam.

A look of surprise crossed Luke's face for a brief instant then he composed himself.

"That's none of your business," he said.

"So she is," said Sam. Luke's smug expression was a dead giveaway.

"You know I can't say anything and even if I could, you would be the last person I'd tell," said Luke, glowering at Sam.

"How long?"

"Swarek, give up, I'm not…"  
Sam leaned over the desk until his face was just a few inches from Luke's.

"How fucking long, Callaghan?"

Luke licked his lips. He had a feeling that Sam was quite capable of punching him in the face and what the hell, he would find out soon enough.

"OK. Could be months. It's deep cover."

Sam stood up and glared at Luke.

"You know she's not qualified to do this."

"Yes she is, she's had experience. You of all people should know that."

"Yeah, but I was with her. I don't think she can do it on her own."

"She's not on her own."

"Collins doesn't know what he is doing either."

Luke's eyebrows shot up. He hadn't expected Sam to figure that out. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

"So what do you care anyway? You're the one who let her go."

"I didn't let…" began Sam, then abruptly stopped. He wasn't going into this with Callaghan of all people.

"Yes you did, you're an idiot, like I told you. She came to me, begging to be on the taskforce. She was desperate to do something different, to get away from 15. To get away from you."

Sam squeezed his right hand into a fist. It would be so easy just to take two steps over to Callaghan and plant one right in the middle of his smug face. But he couldn't. It would cost him his job and probably any remaining chance he had with Andy if she found out. And if he was honest with himself, then he had to admit Callaghan was right. She most likely had wanted to get away from him, after the way he had treated her. He had driven her away.

He paused for a moment, just long enough to regain his composure.

"You her handler?"

"I can't tell you that."

Sam gave Luke the menacing look he'd perfected since joining the academy, and it worked.

"OK, not directly, but I do have some access to her. Why, do you want me to pass on a message? Send her your love?" He was smirking and Sam had to shove his hand in his pocket to stop himself lashing out.

_God, yes_. _Tell her I love her and I miss her and I want her back. _"No, just…" he struggled to find the right words. "Just keep her safe."

And he turned and stalked out of Callaghan's office before Luke could say anything else.

* * *

There was no rush to get home from the park, today was Sam's day off and he had nothing planned. He watched Boo racing around, chasing birds, and tried calling her a few times but she wasn't responding to her new name. She was still Ginger as far as she was concerned. He was going to have to make a concerted effort to call her Boo at every opportunity until she got used to it.

When whistling and calling didn't work he hit on a bright idea. He turned his back on her and started to walk away. Before he knew it she was jumping up on him and there were muddy paw prints all over his sweat pants.

"Idiot dog," he muttered, and snapped the leash on her collar. "Come on, let's go home."

They went the long way back to his house, and again Sam ended up running with Boo because she wasn't capable of simply walking. He usually ran three or four times a week anyway but at this rate he was going to be getting extra fit.

Sam dried off Boo's muddy paws with an old towel he'd left on the back porch, although he did wonder why he'd bothered when he walked in the door. A few dirty paw prints weren't going to make much difference. The place was already a pigsty. The kitchen was horrific – there were dirty plates covered in congealed food scraps piled up all over the counter and old takeout cartons stacked haphazardly in a corner by the overflowing trash can. The sink had a scummy ring around it and a nasty smell wafting up from the plug hole.

The living room wasn't much better. Several empty beer bottles were scattered on the coffee table, which was also strewn with old TV guides and car magazines that had spilled over onto the floor. A hoodie sat in a heap on the floor by the sofa, which was covered in chip crumbs, and a pair of dirty socks poked out from under a cushion. A towel was draped over the back of one chair and a collection of DVD cases were spread over the floor in front of the TV.

Sam shook his head. It was disgusting – how the hell had he been living like this for the last few weeks? Oliver was right, he needed a cleaning lady. Or a kick up the ass to clean it up himself.

He walked back into the kitchen and set about making himself some coffee. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Boo going over to the trash can and nudging the stack of takeout cartons with her nose. "Hey, stop that," he called out but it was too late. The cartons tumbled across the floor. Boo looked up at him and gave a little bark.

"Thanks a bunch," Sam muttered. He opened the cupboard door under the sink and pulled out a plastic trash sack. Grimacing, he picked up all the sticky cartons, many of them still containing bits of rotting food, and dumped them in the sack.

"Jeez Sam, you are a pig," he admonished himself. Then he grabbed the recycling bin from beside the back door and went into the living room, where he collected the bottles. Next the old magazines went in a cardboard box he kept on the back porch for paper recycling. Ten minutes later the hoodie, socks and towel were in the washing machine along with the clothes that had been scattered across his bedroom floor; the DVDs had been put away in the TV cabinet and he was scraping the food scraps off the dirty plates into the trash sack. The whole time the dog followed him around the house like a furry shadow, barking every now and then.

"I hope you're pleased with yourself," said Sam to Boo, as he began rinsing the crockery and loading the dishwasher. "Look what you started. Damn dog."

As he worked, going from one chore to the next, he wondered why he had let things get so bad. He'd never been like this before. Even during the particularly shit times in his life – and there'd been quite a few of those – he'd never wallowed so much in self-pity that he had ended up living in such a filthy mess. It was as if losing Jerry, then Andy, had made him just give up – on himself, on his normal every day life. He had stopped caring.

There had been one moment, three weeks ago, when he had cared, albeit briefly. It was when he got home after McNally had failed to turn up at the Penny and before he knew she'd gone undercover. He had looked around the house and sworn then that he would get the place sorted. If all went according to plan, he and McNally would be back together soon and she would freak out if she saw the state his house was in. He would clean it up, he promised himself. But then he had gotten home from work the next day still reeling from the news that McNally had gone and it could be months before he saw her again. The dirty plates stayed where they were and he ignored the junk strewn everywhere. Instead he reached for a bottle of Jack Daniels from the cupboard and drank himself into oblivion on the sofa.

Now, in the living room, he got down on his hands and knees and peered under the sofa. Yep, there was the empty bottle of Jack Daniels, where it had lain for three weeks.

One thing he hadn't been able to shake from his mind when he learned she'd gone off on the UC op was whether she would have come to the Penny if she hadn't had to leave suddenly. Maybe she had been planning on going for a drink with him but then along came the taskforce offer and she had to drop everything and go. She wouldn't have been able to call him to say sorry she couldn't make it. He knew what that was like – he'd had to go under with no warning on the Brennan case.

That was the thing, maybe she had wanted to come. Maybe she had wanted to start all over again. He hoped that was the case.

He hoped that wherever she was, whatever she was doing, she was thinking about him and the fact that he'd told her he loved her.

He threw the empty bottle in the recycling bin and headed back to the kitchen, his thoughts bouncing around his brain. He loved her. Sam Swarek loved Andy McNally. He had loved her for a long time, yet it had taken so long before he'd finally been man enough to tell her. And the day he finally did it she'd vanished out of his life. Had he left it too late?

_Next: He was not sure how long he sat there, hugging the dog and crying but Boo did not move an inch. She sat still and patient, just giving what seemed to be a sympathetic whimper every now and then. _


	3. Chapter 3

A couple of hours later Sam's house was almost unrecognisable. He had tidied everything away, now he was in a frenzy of cleaning. He'd dusted, wiped, disinfected and polished already, now it was time to mop and vacuum. He'd had to send Boo out to the back yard while he washed the floors, and he'd left her there when he vacuumed because every time he switched the cleaner on she growled and barked at it as if it were some kind of ferocious beast.

As he vacuumed the crumbs off the sofa his thoughts turned yet again to Andy and he wondered what things would be like between them next time they saw each other. One thing he did know was that she would be a different person. Undercover ops did that to all coppers, it was unavoidable. Pretending to be someone else for long periods of time had an effect. Oliver had once told him he thought that doing UC work had made Sam harder, more closed off. He was right.

He imagined what Andy could be doing and realised there was a part of him that couldn't help feeling proud that she had been chosen for a UC assignment. If circumstances had been different and he could have talked to her about it first he probably would have said, "Good for you McNally." It would be good for her career, for her confidence on the job and despite what he had said to Callaghan, he was sure she would do a good job. He just wished he could be beside her, to support and guide her as he had when he was her TO.

Instead she had Collins.

Sam had mixed feelings about Collins. After a few initial misgivings about how gung-ho the new rookie was, he thought the guy was shaping up to be a pretty good cop, and he was the sort of person you could trust. It was obvious Andy trusted him. He'd noticed how close they seemed when they were partnered on the church attacks case. He'd also overheard Diaz and Epstein talking one day about Collins being Andy's break-up buddy, whatever the hell that was.

But he'd observed the small smiles they had exchanged while sitting next to each other in the bullpen doing paper work and he didn't like it. The only reason he hadn't turned into a complete green-eyed monster was because he was sure there was something serious going on between Collins and Peck, so Collins wouldn't be looking at McNally like _that._

But you never knew what could happen – going undercover changed everything. He knew that if Luke had sent male and female officers under together it was because they'd be playing a couple. That would mean acting as if they were all loved up – holding hands, gazing into each other's eyes, kissing even. Just like he and Andy had when they'd pretended to be drug dealer Gabe and his dancer girlfriend Edie. And depending on the cover apartment they'd ended up with, it could even mean sharing a bed.

He really couldn't bear to think about that. It made him feel sick. It had been bad enough when she had been with Luke and he'd tried not to think about them _together_ but now, thanks to his stupidity, Andy was single again and spending a lot of time with a friendly, good-looking guy like Collins who was the only person she'd really be able to talk to while they were under… well, it wouldn't surprise anybody if they got close. Him included.

"Shit." Sam switched off the vacuum cleaner. What if he lost her for good? What if it really was over? He felt very sick now. He wished he could go and see Callaghan, demand he tell him where McNally was so he could find her and talk to her. He would never be able to do that, he knew, but he desperately wanted to make sure she knew how sorry he was and how much he wanted to fix things up.

He heard Boo barking outside the back door and went to let her in. "It's nice and clean in here now so don't go making it dirty," he instructed the dog as he put the vacuum away in a cupboard in the hall.

When he went back into the living room Boo was lying on the sofa. "Get off!" he yelled. "What did I just tell you? God dammit, I just cleaned that!" Boo just looked up at him; he strode across the room, grabbed her collar and hauled her off the sofa. "Bad girl," he snapped. "Go away."

The dog slunk away to the corner of the room and lay down, looking sorrowfully at Sam as he slumped onto the sofa. He looked around and sighed. He was in a perpetual bad mood these days. The house might be tidy but he was still a mess.

His best friend was dead; he'd screwed things up big time with the woman he loved. Two people he cared deeply about, gone from his life. God he missed them. He missed them so much it left him with an ache that seeped into his very bones. He rubbed his eyes and put his head in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. This emotion hurt like real physical pain. He wished he knew how to relieve the hurt, how to make it go away.

As he sat there, the sadness washing over him, he felt his leg being gently nudged. He looked down to see Boo standing next to him. She gently put her chin on his knee and stared up at him. If he didn't know any better, he'd swear she was giving him a look of deep concern. It was almost as if she understood his pain.

"Oh Boo." He'd just bawled her out and yet here she was, trying to comfort him. He stroked her head and ruffled her ears and to his horror realised his eyes were filling with tears.

"I'm not going to cry," he whispered to her. It was hard to get the words out past the enormous lump in his throat.

She gave a little whimper in reply and sat back on her haunches. Then she cocked her head to one side and looked at him. That did him in. Unable to stop himself, he let the tears slide down his cheeks and drop off his chin. He didn't wipe them away, he just sat there, unable to move, and gave in to the sorrow.

He had not cried when Jerry died; he had choked back his grief and kept it buried deep inside him. He had not cried when he realised McNally was gone; his bitter disappointment was filed alongside all those other emotions he kept locked away. But now, thanks to this dopey dog, he'd unleashed them all and was weeping like a little boy.

Gently whining again, Boo jumped up on the sofa and sat up close to Sam, so she was almost as tall as him. This time he didn't tell her to get off; instead he wrapped his arms around her, laid his face against her furry neck, and let go of his tears. He cried for Jerry, he cried for Andy, he cried for himself. He wept as if his heart had been shattered into thousands of tiny pieces.

He was not sure how long he sat there, hugging the dog and crying, but Boo did not move an inch. She sat still and patient, just giving what seemed to be a sympathetic whimper every now and then. Eventually he was all cried out, and he let go of Boo and wiped his eyes.

Nothing would ever bring Jerry back; he had to accept that. But he meant what he said to Andy when he vowed to do everything in his power to get her back. And to do that, he had to get his act together. There was no way she would want him if he continued to be a foul-tempered, pathetic disaster. He was going to sort himself out, and cleaning his house was just the start of it. He took a deep breath, patted Boo on the head and got up from the sofa.

An hour later he was finished. Boo, following him like a shadow, began whining and jumping up with excitement, and Sam looked at the clock.

"OK, good girl. Let's go then."

He took the long route to the park where he threw sticks for Boo to fetch for 15 minutes before they ran home again. She flopped, worn out, on the bedroom floor while he took a shower and stood whining by the back door when he grabbed the keys to his truck and his jacket.

"I'm going out," he told her. "Won't be long."

She gave him that look. "Oh for God's sake Boo… come on then."

When they arrived at the local mall he left her in his truck with strict instructions to behave herself. On the way to the supermarket he went past a menswear store and paused to look at the window display. On impulse, he went in and browsed through a couple of racks. Ten minutes later, he walked out with a bag containing three new T-shirts, a new pair of smart trousers and two button-down shirts.

It had been a very long time since he'd bought new clothes and his favourite burgundy t-shirt, which he'd worn just about constantly since Andy told him the colour suited him, was getting out of shape. Maybe it was time he kept it solely to wear when he went running or to the gym. Or threw it in the trash.

Aware that Boo would be getting restless in the car, he made it around the supermarket in double quick time. He loaded the cart up with vegetables, fruit, eggs, low-fat cheese, wholegrain bread and good cuts of meat. As he waited in line at the checkout he glanced idly at a display of DVDs. Maybe he should get a movie to watch tonight. His eyes scanned the racks, looking for the thrillers and action movies he preferred. Then he spotted a familiar title and despite himself, he reached for it. This could be a very bad idea, he thought as he dropped it in the cart, but what the hell.

It was dark by the time he and Boo got home, and his stomach was growling with hunger. He fed the dog then grilled a steak, baked a potato and made a huge salad. From now on, no more TV dinners and takeout. He was going to eat far more healthily.

For the first time in weeks he set a place at the dining table and ate there instead of off the coffee table while he sat on the sofa. His dirty dishes went straight in the dishwasher; he wasn't going to let the kitchen get in the state it was in before.

Then he slid the DVD into the machine and settled on the sofa. Boo sat by his feet and looked up at him, whining gently.

"What?" he said. She looked at him with those big brown eyes.

"Oh all right," he sighed. "Up you come."

She jumped onto the sofa and lay down next to him, her chin on his thigh. He hit play on the remote, gently stroking her head. An hour later they were still in the same position when he heard someone pounding on the front door. Boo did not seem remotely interested; when he stopped the movie and got up she stayed put. "Great guard dog you are," he muttered.

He opened the door to find Oliver standing on his porch.

"Hey, I was just in the neighbourhood so I thought I'd call by…"

"Really?" Sam didn't believe that. He knew Oliver was worried about him, was checking up on him.

"Yeah, just dropped Maddie at a sleepover a few blocks away."

"Zoe doesn't mind you dropping by?"

"Well, as long as it's not too long. I've got time for one beer."

Oliver followed Sam down the hall to the kitchen and whistled when he walked in.

"Jeez Sam, what the hell happened here? Your house get broken into by a team of cleaning ladies?"

"I've been busy today," said Sam, handing Oliver a beer.

"Pleased to see it brother. Man, what a difference."

They walked into the lounge. Boo looked up from the sofa, and gave a half-hearted bark.

"What the hell is that?" said Oliver, staring at her.

"It's a dog," said Sam sitting down next to her again. "Her name is Boo."

"Since when did you get a dog? And what kind of a name is Boo?"

"Since three days ago and she's named after Boo Radley."

"Whoa, that is a surprise," said Oliver, making himself comfortable in a chair. "Didn't know you liked dogs."

"I don't really. But she's a nice dog. She's affectionate, she's loyal. She's a bit high-spirited but that's OK."

Oliver looked at him for a long moment. "McNally's always wanted a dog, hasn't she?"

"Uh, yeah. She has."

"Ahh, that's sweet. You've got a dog for her. Is this all part of the scheme to win her back?"

"Something like that," muttered Sam.

"Well, I hope it works because it's about time…" Oliver suddenly broke off mid-sentence. He leaned over and picked up the DVD case from the coffee table.

"What the hell Sam? _Dirty Dancing_? You're sitting here on your own watching _Dirty Dancing_? In your immaculately tidy home with your new dog? Who are you and what have you done with the real Sam Swarek?"

Sam shrugged. "I've never seen it. Thought it was about time I did." He wasn't about to tell Oliver that Andy loved _Dirty Dancing_ and had constantly nagged him to watch it but he'd always refused. It sounded crazy but sitting through it was a way of feeling close to her. And he had to admit, it wasn't nearly as bad as he was expecting.

Oliver was shaking his head. "When I told you you needed to change your ways to grow and develop, this was not what I was expecting."

"Yeah, well. We all have our secrets. Tell anyone at the barn about this, and I'll tell them you know all the words to the songs from the _Sound of Music_."

"Only because I played one of the von Trapp kids in a school production many, many years ago."

"I wouldn't go around broadcasting that or you'll come into work one day and find your pants missing from your locker and replaced with some lederhosen."

"Lederhosen are German. The _Sound of Music_ was set in Austria," grumbled Oliver.

"Whatever. I can't wait to see your knees in a pair of lederhosen," threatened Sam.

"Ahh, there's the Sammy I know and love," grinned Oliver.

He looked over at his friend. For the first time since Jerry died Sam looked relaxed, and comfortable in his own skin once again. He was gently stroking Boo's head, as she gazed up at him.

"Would you look at that mutt? How long did you say you've had her?"

"Three days."

"Three days and she's already looking at you like she adores you."

"Yeah, well, she's the only one who does."

"Nah, you're wrong there brother." Oliver paused to take a mouthful of beer. "I'm sure Epstein has still got a bit of a man crush on you. He'd lie with his head in your lap given half a chance."

Sam grimaced. "Thanks buddy. There's an image I could do without."

Oliver laughed and took another swig of his beer.

"Well, if having a dog has made you clean the house then I think that's great. I'm not complaining. Long may it last. And as dogs go, setters aren't bad. A bit mad maybe, but a good-looking breed."

He cast his eyes over Boo, then suddenly laughed.

"Hey Sammy, look at her."

"What?"

"The dog. Look at her. That flowing chestnut hair, the big brown eyes, those long legs. You said she was loyal, affectionate, high-spirited. Jeez Sammy, you've gone and got yourself a canine version of your ex-girlfriend."

"Oliver, what the…"

Then Sam looked down at the dog and he realised Oliver was right. Boo was McNally in dog form. He looked up at his friend who had thrown his head back as he laughed heartily, and Sam chuckled. Then he laughed. And laughed again and then he couldn't stop. It wasn't really that funny, but for some reason he ended up bent double, tears pouring down his cheeks. Oliver was pretty much doing the same thing.

When he calmed down Oliver said, "Hey brother, what do you think McNally's going to think when she comes back and sees your dog? Sees that it's a replacement for her?"

"I hope she'll be very happy for Boo and me," said Sam, laughing again.

Firstly tears, now laughter. Today had been very cathartic, in one way or another. He felt cleansed, refreshed, ready to face the world again. And it was all down to the damn dog.

Oliver only stayed half an hour - he didn't want to risk pissing off Zoe. After he left Sam finished watching _Dirty Dancing_, and put the DVD case right at the back of the cabinet that housed all his movies, just in case anyone else saw it. He flicked over to a sports channel and watched a hockey game before looking at the clock and seeing it was after 11pm. Boo would be hassling him to take her for a run about 7am, so he needed to go to bed now.

As he slid under the duvet he reflected on his day. Getting the house sorted out had been a huge achievement and he felt like he had turned a corner. He wasn't going to be a slob anymore and he was going to get back in shape. He was going to be the best man he could possibly be for when Andy finally came back. She was worth the effort; they were worth it.

He was just drifting off to sleep when he suddenly felt a thud as something landed on the mattress next to him. He sighed.

"Boo, I told you, you're not allowed on the bed."

There was a gentle whimper in the darkness. He pictured the way she had looked at him when he lost it this afternoon, and remembered how still she had sat while he hugged her.

"Oh, all right. You can sleep on the bed," he said. "Just until Andy gets back. But no licking my face. It's disgusting."

He reached out and laid his hand on her back, and that's how he fell asleep. It would never be the same as having Andy beside him, but for now, Boo's company made him feel better. For now, it was enough.

**FYI: Lederhosen are also worn in parts of Austria.**

**A/N: I'd appreciate some advice. I was thinking about finishing this here as it seems a good place to stop but I have a few more ideas for some stuff I'd like to see happen next. I'd appreciate opinions on whether I should keep going with this story, moving it on from just this day, or whether I should start a new story, which would involve going over some of the stuff I've mentioned in this fic. Any feedback gratefully received.**


	4. Chapter 4

**It's been a very long time since I last updated this story (real life has a habit of getting in the way), and now that the promo for series 4 is out, I can see that this storyline is very different to what is coming up on the show. Oh well, just look at it as being rather AU...**

Sam walked into his living room and for a moment he thought he'd been burgled. Magazines were strewn everywhere, the stuffing had been ripped out of a couple of cushions and covered the floor like a dusting of snow and the sofa throw had been shredded and was spread across the room.

"Shit!" he said. Then he yelled, "Boo, get in here!"

No wonder his dog hadn't come to greet him at the front door like she usually did when he got home. She knew she would be in big trouble for trashing the house.

"Boo!" he yelled again. The damn dog still wouldn't answer to her new name. Call her Ginger and she responded like a shot but she was being stubborn when it came to the name he'd chosen.

He walked into the kitchen and there she was, sitting by the back door and looking decidedly guilty.

"You are a very naughty girl," he told her as sternly as he could manage. She gazed up at him, those big brown eyes of hers looking at him as if to say, "Please don't be angry. I'm too adorable for you to be mad at me."

"Don't give me that look," he grumbled.

She got up and padded over to him. He couldn't help himself; he reached down and ruffled her ears. "I know, I know," he said. "It's late and you're probably bored and lonely and hungry. And you need to go for a walk. But that's no excuse for doing this to the house."

She jumped up at him then, putting her paws on his stomach and trying to reach up and lick his face. She knew she was forgiven.

"Oh Boo," he said, playfully scrunching up her ears. "What am I going to do with you?"

* * *

"Have you thought about doggie day care?" asked Peck.

"Do I look like the sort of person who would take their dog to doggie day care?" responded Sam, shooting her his most withering look. It had no effect.

"My mother takes her spaniels. They love it," Peck said. "It's great socialisation for them."

They were in the parade room, waiting for Frank to begin that morning's briefing. Sam had been talking to Oliver about the issues he was having with Boo, and Peck and Nash, who were sitting in front of them, turned around and joined in the conversation.

"Boo doesn't need a social life, she just needs to go out for a second walk every day and burn off some energy," said Sam. "I take her out as soon as I get home but the trouble is, if she doesn't go by about 4 o'clock, she unleashes all that energy and trashes the house. And I'm never home by then. I can't have cushions or a throw on the sofa any more – she destroys them."

"What about hiring a dog walker?" suggested Nash. "They'll come to your house and take your dog for a walk. They'll do it at any time you want."

"Or you could just get some local kid to do it after school," chipped in Oliver. "You wouldn't have to pay them so much. Shame you don't live closer to us – Izzy and Maddie would both love to do it."

"You have a sofa throw?" said Peck. "You definitely don't look like the sort of person who would have a sofa throw."

Sam ignored her. He wasn't about to tell her it had been a present from his sister.

"Actually, that kid idea is not so bad," he said to Oliver. "Maybe I could see if…" He was interrupted by Frank arriving to start parade. He listened as his sergeant went through their assignments for the shift, but found his thoughts drifting. Having a dog walker would mean giving someone the key to his house which he wasn't too thrilled about but if he read them the riot act and pointed out he was a cop they might be less inclined to help themselves to his property or snoop through his private stuff.

"So that's it folks," Frank was saying. "Could be a busy one out there today. Oh, and before we go, Swarek, can you come and see me after this?"

That brought Sam's attention into focus again. "Sure," he nodded at Frank. What the hell had he done this time?

* * *

There was no beating around the bush. As soon as Sam had down in Frank's office his boss asked him, "Sam, have you ever considered becoming a detective?"

Sam was taken aback. "Who me? Nah, no way."

"Well," said Frank. "As you will no doubt be well aware, we are short-staffed when it comes to detectives. Training officers, it's not so bad, and in fact we've got a new training officer moving over from 27th division shortly. She'll be good. But we're short on detectives, what with Callaghan spending most of his time working on that task force of his, and of course with losing Jerry..." His voice trailed off, and both he and Sam were lost in their own thoughts for a moment. Then it was back to business. "Bill Montgomery is retiring this summer and Julia Higgins is going on maternity leave in two months, and we haven't found anyone to replace either of them. Nash is doing well but she's still young and relatively inexperienced. So… would you consider it?"

Sam was stunned. "Why me? I'm not detective material, I'm better on the streets."

"You are great on the streets," agreed Frank, "but I think it is time you challenged yourself. You seem to be a bit… a bit stuck Sam, and I think you need to move on. Come on, doing things like issuing one guy five driving infringements in one hit? It feels like you're bored."

"Uh, that was because, I, uh, well he deserved them and he pissed me off and…"

"Sam, I think you'd make a kickass detective. You've got great instincts, you're tenacious, you can relate to people. You would be good at it."

"I hate paperwork," said Sam bluntly.

"I know you do, and there are ways around it," said Frank. "It's a promotion, more money."

Sam ran a hand over his chin. The paperwork thing was more of a problem than he'd ever let on to Frank, but he wasn't about to go into it now.

"I don't have a college degree."

"You don't need one. You may not have the same level of education as some of your colleagues but you are one of the smartest cops I know. Sam, I wouldn't be suggesting this if I didn't think it would work. Please, will you at least go away and think about it?"

Sam sighed. "Okie doke. When do you need an answer?"

"This time next week. Don't rush it, take your time, maybe talk it through with a few people."

Like who? The one person he wanted to talk it through with was God only knew where doing God only knew what. The other person he would have talked to was dead.

"All right, I'll think about it," he said.

* * *

"I think you should do it," said Oliver, handing Sam a beer. "You'd make a great detective. And Frank is right, this could be just what you need to challenge yourself. I've been telling you you're in a rut. This could get you out of it."

He reached over to take his own drink from the barman at the Penny and took a swig. "You could at least give it a try, do the rotation, see how it goes. If you hate it you can go back to the streets. You won't have lost anything."

"Yeah, I guess so," said Sam, twirling the bottle around in his fingers. "It's just… well, it's going to mean big changes. Learning new stuff and at my age…"

"Sammy, don't give me that. You'll know most of what there is to learn anyway from having been on the job for so long. You won't have a problem, I happen to know you're actually a lot smarter than you let on."

"Thanks so much for that pal," said Sam. Oliver had some idea how much Sam struggled with paperwork but didn't realise the full extent of his problems. It was something Sam hadn't been able to share even with his closest friends.

"It's not just that though," he said, moving on, "it's all the extra hours I'm going to have to work. It's not going to leave me with much spare time. "

"And what is it you do with all your spare time, other than go running or to the gym? You don't have any family commitments, you don't even have a girlfriend any more. You of all people can spare the time buddy."

The bit about not having a girlfriend stung.

"I do have commitments now, I've got Boo."

"Your dog?" Oliver shook his head in frustration. "Jeez, Sammy you can't turn down the opportunity to become a detective because you're worried about taking your dog for a walk. Hire someone to do it. Easy, problem solved."

"Yeah, I guess." Sam swallowed a large mouthful of beer. No family commitments. Oliver was right. But what about when McNally came back? What then? If he was trying to make a go of their relationship, wouldn't him working long hours put a lot of strain on things? He remembered how annoyed she used to get with Luke when they were together and she hardly saw him because he was working so much. She would not want a repeat of that.

But maybe, just maybe, if he was a detective it could make their relationship easier because it was a way of him still being a cop, and still being with her. Like he'd told her that terrible night in the car park, after Jerry's funeral, when he'd lost the plot and walked away from her, he didn't see how he could be with her and work with her. It was too hard. All the worry about her made it hard to concentrate on what he was doing and led to screw-ups. But if he was a detective they would hardly have to actually work alongside each other. Maybe if he couldn't see the trouble she was getting in to, he wouldn't worry so much, and he could focus better on his job.

He sighed. Trying to work out what to do was giving him a massive headache. He took another gulp of his beer. He still had almost a week to decide.

* * *

The day before Sam was due to give Frank his decision was his day off, and he was able to take Boo for a second walk in the afternoon. As they came out the gate of his house his phone bleeped and as he pulled it out of his pocket to check it Boo suddenly bolted, tugging the leash out of his hand. "Hey," he yelled at her. "Come back. Boo, stop!"

The damn dog ignored him and took off down the pavement, her leash trailing behind her. He began sprinting after her – there was an intersection up ahead and he didn't trust her not to run into the traffic. "Boo!" he bellowed. "Boo, stop! Come here. _Come here!_"

Just as he called out a boy stepped through the gate a few houses down the road, and almost collided with Boo. He jumped back, startled, and looked towards Sam as he yelled while running after Boo. Then the boy turned and ran after Boo too. He was only a couple of feet behind her and he was fast; Sam noticed the kid was wearing running gear, which helped.

"Boo!" he yelled again, silently cursing himself for not being able to run faster. They were approaching the intersection; he would never forgive himself if the dog ran into the road and got hit by a car. The boy was still close behind her, but not quite close enough to catch her.

Suddenly Sam had a thought. "Ginger!" he yelled. "Ginger, stop."

And just like that, she did. The boy skidded to a halt next to her and grabbed her lead. By the time Sam reached them Boo was sitting on the pavement, panting, looking like it had all been a big game. The kid was barely puffing, but it took Sam a moment to get his breath.

He spoke to his dog first. "Naughty, naughty girl – don't you ever do that again," he growled. She hung her head in response. He turned to the kid. "Thanks buddy. She's not a very obedient dog."

"She stopped when you called her Ginger instead of Boo," pointed out the boy, who had shaggy brown hair, bright blue eyes and looked about 12. "What is her name?"

"It used to be Ginger, when she was owned by someone else. Now it's Boo."

"As in ghost?"

"As in Boo Radley. To Kill a Mockingbird."

"Oh." The kid looked at Boo. "She looks more like a Ginger than a Boo."

"Yeah, well… she'll have to get used to Boo. Hey, you're a pretty good runner."

"Thanks," grinned the kid. "I'm training for the track team. I run every day after school."

"Good for you," said Sam. "You going for a run now?"

"Yep." The boy handed him Boo's lead and he took it.

"We're headed to the park. I'm supposed to be taking Boo for a walk, but she tends to take me for a run."

"I'm going that way too. Can I run with you?"

"Sure," said Sam.

"It's just that I like running with other people and I don't know anybody else around here who runs… my mom and I just moved here from Hamilton. My name's Ethan by the way."

"Good to meet you Ethan, I'm Sam."

"Hey, Sam. You live near here?"

"Twelve seventy-eight. I'm your neighbour."

"Cool," grinned Ethan.

"Right then, let's go."

Ten minutes later they arrived at the park. Sam pulled up by the gate and Boo began barking. "OK, calm down, we're going in," he told her. He turned to Ethan.

"We're stopping here – Boo likes to play fetch and chase birds."

"OK," said Ethan. "I'll keep going." He patted Boo's head. "See ya, Boo. Be good for Sam and don't run away."

He looked up at Sam. "She's a cool dog, you're lucky to have her."

"Yeah, I am," said Sam. Then something occurred to him. "Hey Ethan, how would you feel about taking Boo for a run in the afternoons? I'd pay you to do it – it's just that she needs the exercise and I'm hardly ever home to do it. You could maybe take her when you go for your run after school. Would that be OK?"

"Oh yeah, it would be great." Ethan's eyes were shining with excitement.

"Good. Why don't I call round tonight just to check with your mom that it will be OK? Will she be home?"

"Yep, she just works part-time during the day. She's an art teacher."

"All right, I'll come by later. You're at…?"

"Twelve eighty-four. With the red front door."

"Good, I'll see you later."

He watched as Ethan ran off down the road, then he let Boo into the park. As the setter bounded around, barking at birds, Sam thought about what good luck it had been to meet Ethan. If the boy took Boo for a run every afternoon that would solve some of his problems. It would also be one less excuse he'd have for turning down the detective's rotation.

He bent down and picked up a stick, then threw it for Boo to fetch. Oliver was right. He could try it, and if it didn't work out he could go back to being a patrol officer. And yes it would mean extra work and a whole heap of studying, which was going to take a lot of getting used to, but it was probably a good thing. The busier he was, the less time he would spend thinking about Andy. And he had to do something to get her out of his head. He was constantly wondering where she was, what she was doing, if she was safe, if she ever thought about him, how close she and Collins were getting… thoughts of her were clogging his brain all the time. He had to get over it.

Boo came running up to him with the stick in her mouth. She dropped it at his feet and sat waiting expectantly.

"So Boo, what should I do?" he asked. "Become a detective?"

Boo barked at him.

"Or stay on the streets?"

She barked again.

He picked up the stick and hurled it away, and Boo raced after it.

"Fat lot of help you are," he muttered.

* * *

Sam arrived at the barn early the next morning and did an hour long workout in the gym before his shift. He showered, shaved and changed into his uniform and stood regarding himself in the mirror for a long moment. He liked the uniform, he liked what it stood for, the way it made him feel. Without the uniform he was just Sammy Swarek, loser kid with the jailbird father, crazy mother and freaked-out sister. He was nothing. He hadn't known who he truly was until he put the uniform on for the first time at the police academy. It made him an upholder of the law, a figure of authority, a force to be reckoned with. It made him a man.

In it he was Officer Swarek. He was somebody, and he was doing something meaningful.

And hell, he knew he looked good in it. Sighing, he turned away and left the locker room. Best was at his desk, reading paperwork. Sam tapped lightly on the open door.

"You free boss?"

"I am for you Sam. You come to tell me what you wanna do about being a detective?"

"Yeah." Sam ran a hand across his newly smooth jaw.

"And?"

"To be honest with you, I don't think being a detective is really me. I like being a street cop, I'm good at it."

"You are. But Sam…"

"But you're right, I do need a change. I'm in Frank. I'll do it. I'll train to be a detective."

**A/N Please bear with me, this is a transitional chapter – it's setting up stuff that is to come. You'll see what I mean in the next chapter, which I hope to post soon.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed, favourited and followed the last chapter. I hope you enjoy this one too...**

Sam felt a gentle pressure on his thigh and smiled to himself. Andy had this habit of putting her hand on his leg when the two of them were sitting next to each other on the sofa watching TV and although he'd never been great at all that "touchy-feely stuff" he liked the way it felt when she did that. He wasn't sure if she did it as a comforting gesture or a possessive one. At times it was almost as if to say, "hey you're mine and I'm staking my claim by resting my hand on your thigh… because I can."

Whatever it was, it was OK with him, and after so many months apart, it was nice to feel the weight of her hand on his body again.

Only something wasn't quite right. The pressure didn't feel the same, and either she had something pointy and sharp in her hand or she'd grown claws.

Shit! Sam's eyes flicked open, he suddenly sat bolt upright and looked around him. He wasn't on the sofa, he was sat at the dining room table. The weight on his thigh wasn't from Andy's hand, it was Boo's paw. The dog looked up at him and whimpered gently. He looked down at the table, which was covered in papers, and realised he must have fallen asleep with his head on the table while trying to study.

He glanced at his watch. 1.35am. Damn. "Are you trying to tell me to go to bed?" he said to Boo, gently stroking her head. She barked back at him. "OK, I'm going."

He stood up and tried to organise the papers into some semblance of order, and gave up. Five minutes later he was in bed, Boo lying next to his feet. He pulled the covers up under his chin and ran a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes but a moment later they were open again. How come he was so tired he'd fallen asleep at the table, yet when he came to bed he felt wide awake?

Stress, that was what was doing it. He felt snowed under with everything he had to learn and it was affecting his ability to sleep. It was a month since he'd started the detective's rotation and he was exhausted after hitting the books late every night. The stuff he was learning was actually really interesting – although a lot of it he already knew, after years in the job – but the paperwork was tough. Maybe he should just bite the bullet and admit to Frank the reason why he struggled so much. Dyslexia was nothing to be ashamed of, not in this day and age.

It had been a relief to find out, when he was 15, why he had such a problem with reading and spelling, and to know that it wasn't because he was stupid, just that his brain was wired differently to most other people. But after years of being called Simple Sammy at school, and treated as if he was a moron – by a few teachers, as well as lots of the other students – he just wanted to fit in and not be singled out for being different. So apart from his teachers, his sister, his mother, his foster parents and later one sympathetic tutor at the police academy, he hadn't really told anyone about his difficulties, and somehow managed to get through life using a range of different strategies.

Some of them were probably a bit of a cop out – like making his rookies do his paperwork, or buying audio versions of books he wanted to read, like Moby Dick. But others seemed to be working and his vocabulary was vastly improved thanks to challenging himself to learn a new word every day – tricky words like plethora. OK, so his spelling was still appalling but spell check helped and nowadays he could look at a printed page and recognise words that made sense, rather than seeing just a random jumble of letters.

He'd always meant to tell Andy but it was just one of those things that never came up. There were so many things he'd promised himself he would tell her, like the truth about his messed-up family and all the years he'd spent in foster care. He'd told himself there was plenty of time but that was before Jerry died and everything turned to shit.

He rolled over onto his side, conscious of the empty space next to him. He wished Andy was here so he could talk to her and let out everything he'd kept bottled up for so long. God he missed her. Where the hell was she? What was she doing this very minute? Sleeping probably – the glowing digital clock beside his bed said 1.56am. Sleeping alone, he hoped. God, what if she and Collins had got together? He couldn't bear the thought.

He had to stop thinking about it. It was going to drive him insane. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. He needed to sleep. There was a small whimper from Boo at the end of the bed. It was as if she was telling him to stop fretting and go to sleep. The damn dog was a mind reader and it increasingly freaked him out, the way she seemed to look at him as if she understood exactly what he was thinking and feeling. Maybe it was all in his imagination, but maybe not…

He rolled over on to his back. At least Boo hadn't trashed the house since Ethan had been taking her for a run every afternoon. It had made a huge difference. She worked off all that pent-up energy with a few laps around the park and in the last few weeks Ethan had also been taking her to his place afterwards and keeping her there until Sam had finished work. The kid had even started feeding her dinner with dog food Sam had supplied. Boo seemed to enjoy spending a bit of time with Ethan and his mom Stephanie and on a couple of occasions Sam had even stayed for dinner too. Stephanie was a lot like her son, both in looks – she had the same bright blue eyes, wide smile and wavy caramel-coloured hair – and in temperament. She was friendly and easy going and like with Ethan, after short time Sam felt like he had known her for ages.

And as for Ethan, well it had been a stroke of good luck running into him that day. He was great with Boo and basically just a really good kid. Sam genuinely enjoyed his company. In fact on Sam's days off, when he took Boo for her afternoon run, Ethan would often turn up and run with them.

"I miss Boo," the kid explained.

Sam knew Ethan had had a fairly tough time of it. His dad had died when he was little and from what Stephanie had said the last time he had dinner at their house, he'd never been particularly close to his step-dad, especially after the guy left Stephanie for another woman the year before.

Perhaps Ethan needed a good male role model in his life, which might explain why he seemed to like hanging around Sam, often staying at Sam's place after their runs together. They'd watch some hockey or he'd help Sam with chores around the house. They'd fixed the broken gate the previous weekend, and Ethan had promised to help Sam get the weeds in the back yard under control on Sam's next day off.

Sam yawned. He could feel himself starting to drift off, at last. Yep, Ethan was a good kid. He wondered what Andy would make of him. Maybe when she came back they could do something with Ethan, take him to Centreville Amusement Park or Canada's Wonderland for the day to give his mom a bit of time to herself. Andy was a big kid at heart, she would love that. He was imagining them all screaming together on a rollercoaster when he finally fell asleep.

* * *

The following day Ethan was one of the first students out of the school gates after the final bell of the day went. He couldn't wait to get home – taking Boo for a run in the afternoons was his favourite part of the day. School wasn't that great – while he didn't struggle too much with his classwork, he was finding it hard to settle in and he'd had enough of being the new kid. It seemed to be taking the others a while to accept him. He'd made a few tentative friends but still didn't feel like he really belonged. Thank God for Sam – he was the best friend Ethan had made since moving to Toronto.

Ethan was so focused on getting home, changing into his running gear and then heading to Sam's to collect Boo that didn't notice his mom sitting in her car beside the kerb until she beeped her horn at him.

His first reaction was to worry. His mom never picked him up from school. This was really unusual. Something had to be wrong.

"What is it?" he asked after he opened the door and slid into the front passenger seat.  
"You know I applied for a job teaching art at an after-school programme? Well, I had the interview today and it went really well, and the woman in charge wants me to go along this afternoon and teach a class. If that goes well, the job is mine! We've got to get over to the community centre now."

His mom was looking pleased with herself as she pulled away from the kerb, and he felt happy for her. He knew her current job didn't pay enough because it was only part-time and she needed a second job to earn more money. But there was a problem.

"But what about Boo? I have to take her for her run."

"I'm sure Sam won't mind if you miss it today."

"But what if you get the job? Will I have to come with you every day?"  
"I guess so honey. You're too young to be left home on your own. You'll have to come with me and hang out at the community centre while I'm teaching. You can find somewhere to do your homework."

"No!" said Ethan. "I can't come with you. I have to take Boo for her run Mom. I can't let Sam down."  
"I'm sorry Ethan, Sam will have to find alternative arrangements."  
"And what about my run? I have to train every day if I want to make the track team."  
'Well, there is a park next to the centre. Maybe you can run there."

"Then why can't I bring Boo? I can take her running in the park. Please Mom. We can call by Sam's on the way and get her. We're nearly there now."

Stephanie sighed and looked over at her son. "And what are you going to do with Boo for the other hour and a half while I'm teaching?"

"I'll keep her amused. We can stay in the car together. We'll be OK. Please Mom."  
"I don't know Ethan…"

"Mom! Please!"

"Oh Ethan. All right," she conceded.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he said.

"But Boo has got to behave herself, or else she can't come," said Stephanie, pulling up outside Sam's house.

"OK," nodded Ethan. "I'll make sure she is good. I promise. You won't regret this."

* * *

The community centre was all the way across town. They left Boo in the car while Ethan went inside with Stephanie to see where she would be teaching her trial class. The lady in charge, Claire, was waiting for them and greeted them both with a big, friendly smile. "I heard all about you Ethan at your mom's interview today," she said.

She was much younger and prettier than Ethan expected, with long brown hair that tumbled over her shoulders. After Stephanie explained about Boo, Claire said when they'd finished their run they could both go in an empty office at the end of the corridor and Ethan could do his homework there while his mum taught the class.

"Are you sure it's OK if he has the dog with him in the building?" asked Stephanie.

"No problem, I like dogs," said Claire. "Just as long as she doesn't misbehave."

"She won't," promised Ethan.

He'd gone into his house to get his running gear during their brief stop to pick up Boo, and after changing in the restroom he got Boo out of the car, snapped on the lead and headed to the park. There was a wide sidewalk winding through the trees and as he broke into a gentle jog he thought it made a nice change to run somewhere different. He soon changed his mind when he realised Boo was getting distracted by the new surroundings and kept wanting to veer off the path. He managed to yank her back onto the sidewalk a couple of times but then she suddenly bolted, pulling the leash out of his hand and taking off at a sprint.  
"No!" he yelled. "Boo, come back you stupid dog!"

But she'd managed to get quite a way ahead of him and as fast as he was, he was struggling to catch up. When he heard the obvious sound of traffic in the distance his blood froze. There must be a main road nearby. Oh no, please make her stop. If anything happened to her, if she ran into the traffic and got hit by a car… Sam would hate him and he would never forgive himself.

"Boo! Stop!" he yelled.

He noticed two figures running along the path towards Boo. Maybe they could intervene – they were going to have to run past the dog anyway.

"Help!" he yelled, hoping they could hear him. "Please, stop that dog!"

Boo, realising there was a plot being hatched to stop her break for freedom, ran off the path onto the grass. "No!" yelled Ethan, gaining ground but still not close enough to grab the dog. It was a huge relief to see one of the two joggers change direction and chase after Boo across the grass. The baseball cap-wearing woman was pretty close, she might just have a good chance of stopping the dog.

And then he suddenly remembered something.

"Ginger!" he yelled. "Stop Ginger!"

And just like that, she stopped. The woman grabbed the dog's leash and held it tightly. Boo was jumping up on her, barking and trying to lick her face. Ethan was panting heavily by the time he reached them.

"Not the best behaved dog in the world, is she?" said the woman, who was patting Boo's head, trying to calm her.

"No," puffed Ethan. "Thank you so much. Thank you for stopping her."

"No problem," said the woman, handing him the leash. "She's a beautiful dog, I couldn't let her come to any trouble. Hold on tighter this time."

"I will," promised Ethan. "Get down," he snapped at Boo, tugging on the lead. "Stop trying to lick her face."

"Come on Mel, let's keep moving," called the lady who had been jogging with Boo's rescuer.

"See you round," said the woman, breaking into a jog.

"Thanks again," called out Ethan as the two women continued on their way.

"Bad, bad girl," said Ethan to Boo once they had gone. "You can't do that. I won't be able to bring you here if you run away. Don't you understand, you dumb dog? Sam will kill me if anything happens to you. Don't you dare do that again."

* * *

It seemed like Boo had got the message about being good. Ethan's mom got the teaching job at the community centre, and after that initial bit of bad behaviour on the first day, Boo was much better behaved over the next couple of weeks. Ethan told Sam he would have to take Boo with him to the after-school programme so he could still exercise her every afternoon and Sam said he was OK with it as long as it was OK with Stephanie and the woman at the community centre.

Claire obviously meant what she said about liking dogs, and was happy for Boo and Ethan to hang out in the empty office after they finshed their run. She even brought in some doggie chews for Boo and would sneak five minutes away from work to sit in the office patting Boo and talking about the dog she had as a kid while Ethan did his homework.

Ethan found he and Boo were getting into quite a routine. He left his running gear in his mom's car every morning and after she picked him up from school he got changed at the centre before running around the park a couple of times with Boo. Often he saw the same people there, including that woman Mel who had grabbed Boo on the first day, and Charlotte, the pretty blonde lady she ran with. It turned out their children were in the after-school programme – he often saw the two women picking up a bunch of kids at the end of the day.

There was also a guy there most days who ran with a bulldog but Ethan wasn't so keen on seeing the two of them because Boo and the bulldog always stopped to sniff each other and it was hard to drag Boo away. And he often saw a lady running with a baby in a fancy three-wheeled pram and an older man doing that funny power walking thing. People started saying hello to him and Boo after seeing them there regularly and he liked it. It was a bit like being back in Hamilton where people were a lot friendlier than they were in Toronto. He actually liked running by the centre better than the park near where he lived, where he still went with Sam on his days off.

Then one day, just when he started to think that Boo was able to behave herself, he was returning to the centre with her after their run when she broke free, tugging the lead from his hand. She bolted across the parking lot towards the building. "No, stop!" he yelled.

Two cars were reversing out of spaces and he was terrifed they couldn't see the dog behind them. "Stop!" he bellowed, but she kept going. He could see that she was running towards Mel and Charlotte, who were coming out of the centre with their kids, and he breathed a big sigh of relief when Boo got out of the way of the cars. The dog ran to Mel, who was carrying a small boy on her hip, and jumped up, barking and frantically wagging her tail.

The little boy was obviously frightened, and began wailing. Mel began trying to console him, but it didn't help. Ethan reached Boo, grabbed her leash and pulled her away.

"Bad girl, stop it!" he yelled.

The boy kept sobbing, and to Ethan's surprise Charlotte reached for him and took him out of Mel's arms.

"Shush Ryan, it's just a dog being friendly," Charlotte snapped, bouncing him on her hip before turning and walking towards a nearby SUV.

"I'm sorry your little boy got frightened, she won't hurt him," Ethan said to Mel.

"Ryan'll be fine," said Mel. "And he's not my son, all the kids belong to Charlotte – I just help her out with them."

"All five kids?" Ethan asked, watching them trail behind Charlotte.

Mel nodded. "Yeah. And they're not used to dogs. Charlotte won't have one – she doesn't like them. But I can see Ginger is a nice dog, and wasn't going to hurt Ryan. She was just a bit overfriendly."

Ah, Mel obviously thought the dog was called Ginger after hearing him call her that day she ran away.

"Actually, her name's not Ginger… well, it used to be when she had a different owner but her owner now calls her Boo."

"Boo?" Mel frowned. "Really?"

"As in Boo Radley , from To Kill A Mockingbird."

"I see," nodded Mel, still looking puzzled.

"Sam, that's her owner, really likes the name but I don't think Boo likes it. She often won't answer to it. I think she still wants to be Ginger."

"I don't blame her," said Mel, ruffling Boo's ears.

"Hey Mel, you ready?" called Charlotte from over by the car, where she was buckling Ryan into a car seat.

"Sure." Mel turned to Ethan and gave him a big smile. "See you round Ethan… and Boo."

* * *

The silver SUV drove out of the parking lot and the woman in the front passenger seat pulled her baseball cap off, revealing long dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. She looked over her shoulder at Ethan and Boo as they walked into the community centre.

A dog called Boo Radley. An owner called Sam. It couldn't be a coincidence. So he'd gone and done it, he'd gone and got a dog and called it Boo Radley. Her head was spinning.

Charlotte interrupted her thoughts. "You still OK to baby sit tonight Mel?"

"Sure," she replied. "What time shall I come over?"

"Seven would be good. Do you mind giving the kids a bath?"

"No problem."

Charlotte started going on about the party she and her husband were going to that night but the woman next to her wasn't paying any attention.

Instead, all Andy McNally could think was that dog she'd saved from running on to the road, the cute setter she'd admired whenever she saw it running around the park with that boy, was Sam's dog. Actually, strictly speaking, that was probably her dog. Sam had got her a dog. And he called it Boo, like he'd said he would.

Maybe he'd really meant everything he said that night at the barn. Maybe he really did love her.

_Next: Can Andy resist the temptation to get in touch with Sam via Ethan and Boo?_


	6. Chapter 6

**It's taken me a while but here is the next instalment. Thanks to Linda P for the encouragement. I'm so jealous of everyone in Canada and the US getting to see series 4 - they're still showing series 3 here in New Zealand. Hoping to read lots of great fics based on the first episode in the next few days! This story will continue to be AU.**

Andy's head was still reeling as she let herself into her cover apartment.

Sam's dog. That gorgeous setter was Sam's dog. Her dog. When the penny dropped it was all she could do to bite her tongue and not ask Ethan about Sam. How did Ethan know him? How was he? Did he seem happy? Sad? Angry?

She put her bag on the kitchen counter, got a glass out of the cupboard and poured herself a drink from the water filter in the fridge door. The apartment was silent. Nick – or should she say her husband, Pete Sullivan – was working tonight, as always.

Oh my God, Sam's dog. What if he decided to come along to the park for a run one day with Ethan and Boo? It might not be out of the realms of possibility.

What would she say? If other people were around she would have to pretend she didn't know him. It would be like that night at the Alpine Inn, when Candace met JD. But if it was just the two of them, then what? She'd had hundreds of imaginary conversations with Sam in her head since she'd gone undercover, going over and over what she wanted to say to him, but she'd thought it would be months until the operation was over and they actually got to talk. What the hell would she say to him if she did happen to see him?

She took a long swig of her drink and set the glass back down on the counter. For weeks, after he broke up with her up in the car park at the Penny, she had been desperate to talk to Sam. She had texted and left numerous messages. She had looked at him across the parade room, trying to catch his eye and hoping he would come up to her afterwards and say, "McNally, we need to talk."

But it didn't happen. And as it slowly dawned on her that it really was over, that Sam didn't want her back, she'd had to pour every ounce of effort she could summon into getting over him. It was the hardest thing she had ever done. True, every bit of pain that he subsequently inflicted upon her – like asking for the keys to his truck back and flirting with other women at the Penny – had made trying to turn off her feelings for Sam that little bit easier. Every emotional wound he caused added another layer to the protective body armour she was slowly building up so that Sam Swarek could never get to her again. She would not let him hurt her like that a second time; it was just too much for her to bear.

She'd been through break-ups before; she knew what heartache felt like. But this agony was on another level altogether. She had been upset when she discovered Luke had cheated on her with Jo but that was nothing compared to the devastation she felt when Sam pulled the plug on their relationship, when he did what he promised he would never do and walked away from her. From them.

This time was worse because Sam was it for her. Dream Guy. Mr Right. End Game. Every cliché you could possibly think of. It may have taken her some time to admit it, but subconsciously she had known that all along. Well, maybe not from the moment she tackled him in the alleyway the day they first met, but definitely by the end of their first day working together, when they nearly kissed in the parking lot of the Penny. The same parking lot where he left her crying in the rain two years later.

She had known he was it for her it when it was the comfort of his arms she craved the night of the blackout, after she'd killed the kidnapper.

She had known it when she ran like a bat out of hell in perilously high heels out of the Mermaid Lounge, despite the fact there was a gun trained on her, to get a message to him that he was walking into certain death with the drug dealer Angel.

And she had felt it in every cell of her body when she had gone back into the Alpine Inn so Candace could ask JD if he wanted to spend a few hours together.

Nobody made her feel the way Sam did – so why hadn't they been able to work things out?

Andy picked up her glass and walked through to the lounge. She sat down on the leather sofa, set her drink on the oak coffee table and reached for the TV remote. She flicked absently through the channels, and watched an item on E Online about celebrity cosmetic surgery scandals before turning off the TV. It was no good. Try as she might, she could not distract herself. Thoughts of Sam crowded every corner of her brain.

She thought back to the last time she had seen him, and she could still hardly believe what had happened on that action-packed day she'd gone undercover. First of all he had told her he loved her. Those four words she'd longed to hear: "I love you Andy." And he chose to say it while she was holding a grenade.

She couldn't believe how bad his timing was. Her life was hanging in the balance and there he was, wrapping his hands around hers as she clutched the grenade, looking at her with those big brown eyes and declaring his love for her. It was all so surreal, she could barely take it in.

Later on, when she was back at the barn getting ready to leave for the day and replaying events over and over in her mind, she couldn't help wondering if he had only said it because she was in a life or death situation. Would he have said it otherwise? Did he truly mean it? Even after everything he had put her through in the last few weeks, could he really honestly love her?

When he came to the locker room to talk to her, she was prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt. When he told her he had meant what he'd said earlier her heart had done a little flip. And then it had dropped like a stone when he made that crack about Grey's Anatomy.

That was it. Sam could go screw himself; she couldn't deal with his flippant behaviour and inability to open up about how he felt. When she told him she didn't care anymore, in that moment she truly meant it.

His efforts to make up for what he'd said didn't have much impact – even his promise to get her a dog, something she had always wanted. She couldn't handle this now. It had been a hell of a day. Her head hurt. Her emotions were in turmoil. She couldn't take the rollercoaster ride their relationship was. Not at that moment in time.

She just wanted him to go away and give her time and space. He, of all people, should understand what that was like. When she walked away from him in the corridor, she honestly wasn't sure if she would meet him for a drink in the Penny. She just wanted to go home and crawl into bed, and process everything that had happened. But before she had a chance to work out what she was going to do, Luke went and took the decision out of her hands. She couldn't turn Dakota down, not after she'd harangued Luke to let her in on it, and she couldn't go against orders and tell anyone what she was doing, Sam included.

She thought about him, sitting at the bar waiting for her in vain, as Luke drove her and Nick into the night and an uncertain future. She wondered how he had felt when she didn't show up. Hurt? Angry? Lost?

Welcome to my world Sam, she'd thought.

Andy sighed and looked out of the window of the apartment. So how was Sam feeling now, she wondered. Was he still angry and upset? What if being apart for so long had made him realise that he didn't really love her after all? What if his life had been far less stressful without her in it? He might have meant what he said that night at the barn about making it up to her but things could have changed. He could have met someone else.

She couldn't help herself; from the moment she had gone undercover she had thought about Sam every day, and what he might be thinking and feeling. She had tried to push him out of her brain and concentrate on the operation instead but at moments when she least expected it she found herself wondering what he was doing and who he was doing it with. She couldn't shake the constant thoughts of him. It was like having a thorn embedded deep in her skin.

Over the last month or so she thought she'd be doing a little better at keeping Sam out of her thoughts, but now the totally unexpected connection to him thanks to Ethan and Boo had opened the floodgates again.

Andy took a big swig of her water and set the glass back down on the coffee table. God, this was doing her head in. She really didn't need the complications Sam presented at the moment. She was struggling to concentrate on the UC operation as it was. Things weren't exactly going as she'd hoped.

She looked around the apartment that had been home for the last four months, and remembered how she'd felt when she'd walked in here with Nick on that first night undercover. She was excited and nervous, and when their handler Eric let them in the door, surprised. The last thing she had expected was to end up in a condo like this. She'd seen the two cover apartments Sam had stayed in when he was under. The second one was pretty basic but looked like a palace compared to the first. So she wasn't expecting much.

But as Eric explained when he led them into the condo, in an upmarket part of the city, they would be pretending to be an ambitious drug dealer and his wife, who were going up in the world. Their home had to fit the story, and this place was ideal.

The condo was contemporary and stylish with a huge bedroom, a small study, and enormous open plan living/dining room that led to a covered balcony. There was also a designer kitchen with granite counters and a fancy oven, and a huge big tub in the tiled bathroom where Andy had already spent many a long hour soaking in bubbles and pondering what had gone wrong with Sam.

She had been so on edge that first night. The UC job was just what she needed to get out of the rut she was in, and the fact she was under with Nick was a huge bonus. Nick was a great guy. Having a really nice apartment to live in was a big plus too, and she couldn't wait to hear what the operation would involve.

Eric had put a file on the dining table, and motioned for Andy and Nick to sit down. First he took out of 10 x 8 photo of a good looking blond man with piercing blue eyes and designer stubble. "This is Travis Gordon," he said. "Formerly Sergeant Travis Gordon. He served with the Canadian Armed Forces in Kandahar, Afghanistan until he was injured in an IED explosion. Took some shrapnel to the back, lost one kidney.

"He came home to Toronto, to his wife and family. Set up a business providing security services – everything from bouncers at nightclubs and bars through to security at private parties. But there's more to his business than meets the eye. Maybe he missed the excitement of frontline duty, who knows, but as well as being in the bodyguard business, he also has a sideline distributing drugs. Business has been booming in the last couple of years and now he's a big-shot drug dealer, second only in Toronto to Anton Hill. And as of late, Travis Gordon is giving Mr Hill a run for his money. He's even poached a couple of Anton's guys, who've gone to work for him."

Eric paused, and looked at Nick and Andy as if to check they were taking it all in. "Travis appears to have very good connections with a supplier who has an enormous amount of product, because recently he has been flooding the market with his drugs. He's getting so much product he is able to undercut Anton Hill quite substantially, and he has become very rich along the way. In the meantime, there are a lot of people out there getting hooked because they can afford the drugs Travis's people are selling, more than they can afford other stuff that is on the street.

"We want to take Travis down," continued Eric "but we also want to find out who his supplier is and get them too. And that's where you two come in."

Andy felt a fluttering of butterflies in her stomach. OK, so she had wanted to do this but she was just starting to realise this was all very real, and who knew what situation she could find herself in.

"Travis moves a lot of the drugs through his legitimate security business. Many of his staff are recruited from former military guys, a lot of them down on their luck, and he gets them selling the drugs at the bars and clubs where they are working. If they get caught, they take the rap. We've taken down a few of them in the past year, and never once has anyone pointed the finger at Travis Gordon, they're so loyal. We've never been able to get any evidence against him – well, nothing that would stick anyway.

'That was until a month ago. An off-duty cop at a private party in a club noticed a lot of dealing going on and phoned it in. We arrested several of Gordon's people, including his right hand man, one Matt Nicholls, who served with Travis in Kandahar."

As he spoke, Eric pulled another photo out of the file, this time of a chunky-looking guy with wavy black hair and a goatee beard. "This is Matt Nicholls. To our surprise, Matt couldn't wait to spill the beans on Travis."

"Really?" Nick's eyebrows shot up. "I would have thought he'd be more loyal than that, having served together."  
"Us too," said Eric. "The thing is, Matt really doesn't like what Travis is doing. He got into the business because he needed a job and the money was good, but this guy has a conscience and he was seeing what the drugs were doing to people, especially the cheap stuff Travis was flooding the market with. It's making him very uncomfortable.

"Plus he doesn't want to go to jail again. He did six months when he was a teenager for stealing cars and doesn't want to be locked up again. He hated it.

"And the kicker was that Travis, despite being a married man, was hitting on Matt's girlfriend, Lauren Smith. Matt wanted to get him back for that."

Eric took a breath. "Matt has been very helpful and provided a lot of details, but there is still a lot he doesn't know, like who the supplier is. Travis is very cagey about that. So we let him off the drug dealing charges on condition that he becomes an informant and helps us find out as much as we possibly can about Travis' operation.

"The trouble is, Matt's not doing so good. He's very nervous about getting caught, and so was his girlfriend, Lauren. Lauren, you see, was good friends with Travis' wife Charlotte, who has a habit of telling Lauren things that have been useful, like who Travis associates with. Lauren was very anxious she'd let something slip, and the Gordons would find out she and Matt were supplying information to us. Travis would not respond well if he found that out.

"I can't imagine he would," said Andy, studying the photo of Travis. He was very good looking, with fine features and a wide smile but there was something about the look in his steely blue eyes, that made her think you definitely wouldn't mess with him.

"He comes across as very smooth and charismatic but he has a nasty violent streak," said Eric. "He rarely does the dirty work himself – he has two goons who do that for him. And he has no qualms about getting them to inflict pain where he deems it necessary.

"All of this is starting to take a toll on Lauren and she kinda freaked out a week ago, thanks to the stress and all, so we had to get her out of harm's way before she blew the whole operation. We came up with the excuse that her mom out in BC had had a stroke, and she had to go home to look after her.

"The deal we have with Matt is that he can go and join her in a couple of weeks, and get the hell away from Travis. But in the meantime, we've asked him to introduce an old army buddy of his to Travis, and get him a job."

"I guess that's me," said Nick.

"You guess right," said Eric. "You're ex-military, right?"

Nick nodded.

"Matt's going to tell Traivs how you've been dabbling in dealing in Calgary and now you've moved to Toronto you're ready to take a step up. He'll get you in with Travis and then in a couple of weeks time he's going to get a phone call and have to dash over to BC because his girl Lauren has had a car accident or something along those lines. He'll take off, never to return, and hopefully by that stage, you, Nick, will be able to step into Matt's shoes and be trusted by Travis."

Nick was nodding. Andy felt frustrated. "What about me?" she asked. "Where do I come into it?"

"You take over from where Lauren left off. You will become Charlotte Gordon's new best friend. She was starting to tell Lauren things like details about visitors they had from overseas. There may have been a connection between these guys and Travis's supplier."

Andy had lots of questions. "So how do I get close to her? Through Nick?"

"Kinda," said Eric. "The thing about this woman is she has five kids and her husband won't let her hire a nanny because he reckons if she's a stay-at-home mum the children are her responsibility and hers alone. Charlotte doesn't want to go out to work, but she also can't be bothered with the kids.

"What Matt doesn't know is that Charlotte has been paying Lauren, out of the money he gives her every month to live off, to be her unofficial nanny. She's too lazy to take care of them all herself, although four of them are at school all day. The youngest is still three.

"So you need to get in there and become Supernanny. You've got a kid, right?"

"Ah, no, I don't."

Eric frowned. "I thought they were sending someone with a kid. You'd better be good with rug rats, that's all I can say. You need to win over Charlotte by becoming the perfect child-minder. Make yourself indispensible. Make the kids love you."

Andy nodded. "I can do that," she told Eric.

"Good, I hope so," said Eric, but he didn't sound very sure. He reached into the file and pulled out a bunch of papers.

"Now, this is the paperwork you guys will need, please read through it carefully. Your new identities are Melissa and Peter Sullivan. Originally from Calgary, been married three years, up to you to decide how you met. But make sure that once you come up with a story you stick to it.

"Peter, you're ambitious but not afraid of working hard. Make him think he can't manage without you.

"Melissa, you want to be like Charlotte – the kind of wife who spends her days going to the beauty salon or the gym. But unlike Charlotte, you like kids, and you're happy to look after hers. You have no problem with your husband dealing drugs – she needs to understand that."

He looked at them both and continued to call them by their cover names. "Peter, tomorrow Matt will pick you up and take you to meet Travis. The two of you can decide how you met. He's already talked to Travis about his old army buddy who has big ambitions. You'll start working for Travis straight away. Melissa, it may take a little while to get you friendly with Charlotte but that's OK."

He paused. "You guys OK with this?"

Andy had smiled and nodded enthusiastically. It did sound pretty straightforward. And she had to admit, exciting. She was looking forward to it.

Now, as she got up off the sofa and headed to the kitchen to fix herself some dinner, she shook her head at the way things had turned out. Things were going great for Nick. Travis Gordon really liked Matt's buddy Peter Sullivan and entrusted him with lots of responsibility, both in the legitimate and illegal businesses he was running.

Nick was given the task of working nights and keeping on eye on operations, collecting money, delivering more drugs to the guys selling at the various bars and functions and making sure everyone was behaving. He still had no leads at all on who the supplier was, but he already had enough evidence to send Travis Gordon away for a very long time.

Andy, however, was nothing more than a glorified nanny and companion. She spent her days having to hang out with one of the rudest, laziest, most arrogant and self-centred women she'd ever met, and it was driving her crazy.

Charlotte had seen an opportunity for Melissa (or Mel as she insisted on calling Andy) to take over from Lauren after Travis had invited Melissa and Peter over to their enormous home for drinks one night. Andy had done her best to make sure she and Charlotte hit it off and it worked. Now Charlotte was secretly paying her to hang out with her and keep the kids occupied.

Andy's days had fallen into a routine. Charlotte would swing by the apartment to pick her after she'd dropped the four eldest kids at school. Then they'd head for the gym, where, once Ryan was safely in the crèche, they'd work out together. Charlotte was an exercise freak and, Andy had to admit it, had the most amazing body, especially for someone who had had five kids.

"Travis can't stand me fat," Charlotte had informed her in the changing room once, admiring herself in the mirror in a crop top and tiny shorts. "He would never come near me when I was pregnant, even before I was showing. It repulsed him.

"So if I want to keep my man, I have to work hard to stay in shape."

Work hard she did. Andy was fit and strong, but she still struggled to keep up with Charlotte. The woman mixed up her workouts and had recently got a personal trainer. Andy looked forward to the days Charlotte had a session with Jean-Claude – it mean she got to do her own thing.

After their workout, they'd collect Ryan and head to a café for lunch. Charlotte only ever had salad or soup – Andy never saw carbs pass those plumped-up lips – and because she could see Charlotte glaring at her if she dared to eat bread or pasta, she began opting for salads too.

Then after lunch Andy would keep Ryan occupied while Charlotte had a massage or manicure, or went shopping. Often that meant taking him to a playground or the library, or just hanging out with him in a mall while Charlotte was pampered or spent a small fortune on designer clothes, expensive shoes and other luxury items she'd then show off to Andy.

Then it was time to pick the kids up from their private schools and drive them across town to what was supposed to be the best after-school programme in the city. Ryan was put in yet another crèche and the older kids were dispatched to various art, dance, drama and karate classes, and then Andy and Charlotte would run around the park.

Andy did not understand why the kids needed to go to an afterschool programme – it wasn't like Charlotte was working. And if it was just so she could go for a run, why didn't she do that while they were still at school? Or get a treadmill? It seemed to Andy that Charlotte just wanted to be rid of the kids – the less time she spent with them the happier she was.

And while the running clearly made Charlotte happy, doing a few laps of the park after having done a class at the gym in the morning nearly killed Andy in the first week. But soon her stamina increased and she found it easy to run for 45 minutes with Charlotte. She'd never been fitter in her life. Afterwards they would often go for a smoothie at a café next to the community centre while they waited for the kids' classes to end and that was often nerve-wracking for Andy. The area the community centre and park were in was not all that far from 15 division, and she was worried she would see someone who would recognize her as a cop. That's why she always wore a baseball cap pulled low over her face – hopefully it made her less recognizable.

And now all this time she'd been concerned about maybe seeing someone she knew and it turned out she regularly saw Sam's dog. Thank God Ethan had no idea who she was. But how the hell did the boy fit into Sam's life?

Andy looked at the clock. She had an hour and a half to cook and eat some dinner and get over to Charlotte and Travis's place to babysit. She'd been to their enormous mansion before for dinner and drinks, but babysitting tonight would give her the opportunity, while the Gordons were out and the kids were in bed, to do a bit of snooping. Who knew what she might be able to uncover.

Nick was convinced the information they were desperate to know, about who was supplying the drugs, was in Travis's laptop, but the computer was either always by his side or locked away in a safe in the office, under the eagle eye of his PA Barbara. Maybe when he was home he was more relaxed and left the laptop out – wouldn't it be incredible if she got the chance to go through it? Maybe she could crack this case. She needed to do something helpful – the boredom was killing her. And she needed something to take her mind off Sam.

Sighing, she opened the freezer and pulled out a frozen lasagna. What was he doing, this very moment? Still working, laboring over paperwork? He would never talk about it, but she knew he struggled with it. Maybe he was at the Penny, sharing work stories with Oliver. Or was he at home, watching TV and thinking about her? She would love to know.

Just as long as he wasn't with anyone else. She honestly thought that would kill her.

* * *

It was nearly midnight when Andy let herself back into the apartment after being at Travis and Charlotte's. The evening had been a disaster. Ryan had refused to go to sleep and she'd had to read to him for over an hour before he finally dropped off. The oldest girl, Danielle, who was 13, wouldn't get off the phone to her friend and Andy had caught the oldest boy, 11-year-old Lucas, playing with his Nintendo DS under the bedcovers long after it was supposed to be lights out. Nine-year-old Jake and six-year-old Kristin were just as bad, switching the TV on again after being told to turn it off and getting up every few minutes to go to the bathroom or get a drink.

All the kids were very rude. It was no surprise they were such brats – on the rare occasions their father saw them he overindulged them, and their mother clearly wasn't interested in them. Their behaviour made Andy appreciate what a great kid Leo was – and what a brilliant job Traci was doing as a mom.

In the end Andy had had to get really tough with them, to make them behave, and use her cop voice to tell them off. Luckily it had worked.

Then, when they were finally all asleep, she'd been just about to creep into the study to see if she could find Travis's laptop when she realised there were security cameras throughout the house and they may well be recording her. So she'd had to sit in the lounge and watch some Tom Cruise action movie she'd seen a hundred times already because Sam liked it. It had been such a relief when Charlotte and Travis got home from their dinner party and she could leave.

Nick still wasn't home – it would probably be closer to 2am before he showed up – and she didn't bother to turn on the living room lights. She headed straight for the bathroom to clean her teeth, and then crawled into bed.

Was Sam working nights, or was he in bed yet? If he was, please let him be alone, she thought.

Maybe he wasn't alone, maybe Boo was with him. Maybe he even let the dog sleep on the bed. While Andy instinctively knew Sam wouldn't approve of that, Boo was pretty damn cute, and she might have won him over. She smiled at the thought of Boo. What a lovely dog. Her lovely dog. Maybe there was some way, via Boo, that she could get a message to Sam. Maybe tie a note to her collar or something.

Oh Andy, stop it, she admonished herself. She was undercover, for God's sake. She couldn't blow the operation. She couldn't try to engineer, through Ethan and Boo, some way of seeing Sam again. It would be wrong. She'd already been suspended once for blowing a UC op – there was no way she could do it again.

She rolled over in bed, tucking the covers under her chin. The trouble was, she missed Sam. She missed everything about him – from the way he licked the foam off his coffee and his bizarre method of pulling his t-shirt off over his head with one hand, through to the way he nudged her nose with his when they were making out and the tiny little growling noise he would make during sex.

And if she was really honest with herself, she still loved him. She always had, always would. But although she hadn't stopped loving him she had finally come to terms with the fact that they weren't going to be together. It taken so much effort and energy to reach that point and she didn't think she could go through that again if they got back together only for things not to work out again. If they split up again, she would remain broken for the rest of her life.

And anyway, things had changed in the time she had been undercover with Nick. In some ways, she was a different person. She had moved on, and she couldn't go back to a situation that could so easily end in heartache yet again.

Could she?

* * *

She was still awake, tossing and turning, when she heard the front door open and Nick come in. While a part of her was desperate to tell him about Ethan, Boo and Sam, another part knew it was best to keep her news to herself. She knew what Nick would say: don't go there.

He would also be quick to point out that things had changed since they were last at 15, and that was difficult to go back. "Life is about going forward," he would no doubt say.

She rolled over on to her side, listening to Nick moving around in the bathroom. He would be right if he told her to steer clear of Sam. It was way too risky.

She would have to resist the temptation to contact him. She would wait until the operation was over.

She heard the bedroom door creak as it was pushed wider open and then Nick's footsteps on the bedroom floor. There were rustling sounds she recognised as Nick stripping down to his boxers, before she felt him lifting the covers and sliding into bed next to her.

Yeah, things had changed.

**A/N I'm guessing that right about now a lot of you are thinking, "No! Not Andy and Nick! But she still loves Sam… doesn't she?"**

**Well in my FF world, yes she does and Sam loves her right back. But with these two, things are never going to be smooth sailing and when it comes to writing about them, I like a bit of drama. So prepare for the fact that this story is going to be a bit of a rollercoaster ride, but hopefully when the end comes you'll think it was worth hanging in there.**


	7. Chapter 7

**This is a pretty long chapter but then quite a lot needs to happen. And remember, Sam and Andy's journey is a rollercoaster ride - there are going to be highs and lows! I hope you enjoy it. Reviews always welcome!**

Andy woke up to the sound of Nick's gentle snoring. She rolled over and watched him as his nostrils flared and his chest rose then dropped. It still surprised her how easily she had gotten used to sleeping with Nick; she'd never actually slept with a guy without also having had sex with him, until now. She'd been uncomfortable about sleeping with guys even when she had had sex with them and it wasn't until Sam that she really felt completely relaxed about being in bed with someone all night.

But things had changed; she and Nick were in a weird situation, pretending to be married, and they just had to adapt.

When they'd first realised there was only one bed in their undercover apartment, Nick, being a true gentleman, immediately offered to take the couch. Andy insisted they take turns, and eventually she got her way. They did swap over each night for the first few weeks – one in the bed and the other on the sofa – until Travis Gordon turned up earlier than expected one morning for some one-on-one he'd arranged with Nick – or Peter, rather – and spotted the bedding on the sofa.

Nick had thought quickly, and sheepishly said he and Melissa had had a fight the night before, and he'd been kicked out of bed. Travis smiled knowingly, and seemed to accept the excuse.

That night, as they sat at the table eating dinner, Andy said, "We can't risk getting caught out again – we should both sleep in the bed."

Nick had nodded slowly. ""I guess. You know… let me reassure you that… I mean…. Uh, I'm not going to, uh…"

"You're not going to try any funny business. Is that what you're trying to say?" asked Andy, a bemused smile on her lips.

"Yep," said Nick.

"I won't try any either," she promised. "And it's a huge bed, I'm sure there won't be any problems."

She was right, there was plenty of room for both of them. And the fact that Nick worked until 1 or 2am five nights out of every seven made it easier – Andy was in bed asleep by the time he got home, and she usually left him sleeping when she got up around 7am. It was only on Nick's days off that things were sometimes a little awkward, but they'd somehow managed to ignore that.

It might not have worked so well if he'd been a heavy snorer but fortunately he only snored occasionally and when he did, it was light. Like now.

As she watched him Andy thought, not for the first time, that he really was a good-looking guy. And a really nice one. If it wasn't for the fact that she was still hung up on Sam, and that Nick had strong feelings for Gail, even though he was convinced she would never talk to him again for leaving her to go undercover, and had probably moved on to someone else… well, if it wasn't for that, things might well be very different.

She wasn't sure if she'd sighed rather loudly at this thought, or maybe Nick had sensed her staring. Whatever the reason, his eyes suddenly snapped open and he was looking at her.

"Mmmm, good morning," he mumbled. "You OK?"

"Uh huh." They hadn't spoken last night when he came in – she had pretended to be asleep because if they'd started a conversation she might just have been tempted to tell him about Boo and Sam. Now as they lay on their sides, facing each other across the roomy bed, she was confident she could keep her news to herself.

"How'd it go at Travis and Charlotte's?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Not good. I didn't realise they've got security cameras all over the place. Decided it was not a good idea to go snooping."

"No, it wouldn't be." He yawned. "There has to be some other way of getting to that damned laptop."

"Maybe you might have to seduce Barbara so she'll let you look at it sometime when Travis is out."

She grinned at him. Travis's PA Barbara was about 60 and looked like Mickey Rooney.

"Yeah right," he smiled back at her.

"I wish I could get to it somehow," she said. "I wish I could do something useful. I feel like I'm not making any difference at all."

"I know, but Andy, you never know what might happen, what Charlotte might say…"

"Charlotte's never said anything remotely connected with Travis's business. She's not interested. As long as he makes plenty of money to keep her in the lifestyle she enjoys, she doesn't care. I don't even know why I'm here – she's not going to tell me anything useful," Andy grumbled.

"You don't know that. "

"I do. I feel like I'm wasting everyone's time, including my own. Maybe I should ask Eric to pull me off the operation."

"No!" Nick looked stricken. "You can't go and leave me. I need you."

She smiled back at him. "Ahh, that's the nicest thing anyone has said to me in months."

She pushed her hair out of her eyes. "It's OK Nick, I won't leave you. We're in this thing together. But I wish something would happen. I'm sick of hanging out with Charlotte and her devil offspring."

Nick laughed. "That's what's so great about you – you say what you mean. Hang in there Andy, I'm sure something will work out."

She sighed and rolled onto her back. "It better had, or I'm going to go crazy."

* * *

Half an hour in Charlotte's company and Andy felt like tearing her hair out. The woman had bitched and moaned about everything and anything since she'd collected Andy after dropping her kids at school, hardly pausing for breath or to let Andy get a word in edgewise as they drove to the gym. It wasn't until she'd deposited Ryan at the crèche and was getting changed in the locker room that she started to cheer up.

Charlotte had a session with her trainer, Jean-Claude, so Andy did a boxing class on her own. It was a relief to be rid of Charlotte and as she threw her first punches in the warm-up she imagined her knuckles connecting with Charlotte's face.

Then after a while she found herself remembering the time she had laced up a pair of gloves and lashed out at Sam. She couldn't help smiling as she thought of that session after they'd been quarantined all night in the barn, so long ago. He had instinctively known that she needed a physical outlet for all her pent-up frustration following her split from Luke. Boxing had felt like the last thing she wanted to do, but with Sam's encouragement she'd given it a go. And it made her feel so much better. But it wasn't just venting her frustrations by hitting him that improved her mood, it was the way he smiled at her, and teased her as they sparred. It was knowing that he cared.

Now she smiled her way through the whole class, thinking about Sam, and was still grinning in the shower, remembering other moments between them when attraction between them had been so intense. Like the time she got shot at the concert and he marched her behind the trailer. The way he'd pushed her up against the wall and brushed her hair off her face… he'd have kissed her if she hadn't gone and spotted the kid holding the gun.

But her good mood evaporated when she was getting dressed and saw Charlotte striding across the changing room towards her.

"Hey Mel, I am going to have some extra sessions with Jean-Claude in the afternoons to work on my abs and glutes, so I'll need you to get the kids from school and take them to the afterschool programme on your own. OK?"

No please or thank you, Andy noticed.

"You can take my truck, and then after JC and I are finished I'll get a cab over to the community centre to meet up with you. I'm starting today," said Charlotte, grabbing her towel and heading for the showers. "Hey, can you get Ryan from the crèche?"

"Sure," said Andy, picking up her gym bag and leaving the room so she didn't have to be around Charlotte any longer than necessary She made her way to the crèche, fuming about how rude Charlotte was, just expecting her to follow her barked-out orders because she was paying her a tiny amount of money to help out. Then it dawned on her that actually this was a good thing.

It meant she got a break from Charlotte in the afternoons while she had her extra sessions. It could also mean she might be able to go running with Ethan and Boo, now that she had no running partner. It would be nice to spend more time with the kid, and her dog. Yes, this could be a very good thing.

Five minutes later she had enticed Ryan away from the slide, signed him out of crèche and was waiting for Charlotte in the lobby when she spotted the other woman walking down the corridor with Jean-Claude, chatting animatedly to the muscly trainer.

There was something about the way Charlotte was walking very close to the personal trainer that grabbed Andy's attention. They stopped just before entering the lobby, and Charlotte turned to Jean-Claude and looked up at him. She brushed one of her hands through her hair, still a little wet from the shower, and put the other on Jean-Claude's chest.

OK, thought Andy. Extra sessions, huh? Well, it looked like they were planning on getting hot and sweaty together but not in the gym. Charlotte slid even lower in her estimation. The sooner this op was over, the better.

* * *

The smile on Ethan's face was the best thing Andy had seen all day.

"I'd love to run with you," he said. "Is your friend not coming at all in the afternoons now?"

"She'll still be here two or three times a week, I think," said Andy. "It just depends on how many extra, umm, sessions she needs with her personal trainer. But in the meantime, it will be good to run with you… and Boo, of course."

"No problem," grinned Ethan. "For me or Boo – look how pleased she was to see you." It was true, Boo was only just starting to calm down now, a full five minutes after Andy had gone up to her and Ethan outside the community centre.

They kept chatting to a minimum as they headed off on three laps around the park. When they finished Andy checked her watch – still another hour until Charlotte's kids were finished their classes.

"Where are you off to now?" she asked Ethan.

"I've got homework to do – Claire lets me use one of the offices. Hey, do you know anything about anatomy?"

"Uh, not really," said Andy. "I know how many bones there are in the human body, but not much else. But I can try to help if you want."

"Cool, thanks Mel," grinned Ethan.

"Call me Melissa if you like," said Andy. Only Charlotte called her Mel, she much preferred the full version of the name she'd been given for the op.

"OK Melissa, " said Ethan. "Follow me."

They got into a bit of a routine after that. In the days that Charlotte saw Jean-Claude, Andy and Ethan ran around the park, accompanied by Boo, and then went to the office Ethan was allowed to use. Andy helped him with his homework where she could but he was a pretty bright kid, he didn't always need any assistance. Claire had set him up to log on to one of the computers in the office, and when he'd finished he'd put his work on a memory stick to take home. Claire would quite often pop in to say hello and chat to them. Andy didn't see too much of Ethan's mom Stephanie, because Stephanie was teaching and then in her class tidying up while Andy was collecting all the Gordon kids, but when she did they exchanged a few pleasantries.

Stephanie was a petite and pretty woman with bright blue eyes and an easy smile. She was instantly likeable, and that worried Andy – did Sam like her, by any chance? As in, _like_ her?

She tried not to pump Ethan for information, but she had managed to learn that he was Sam's new neighbour and Sam had hired him to take Boo for runs in the afternoon because if she didn't burn off some energy, she'd trash the house. She could just imagine how well that would go down with Sam.

One Friday afternoon Ethan had done all his homework so Andy took him to the café next door for a hot chocolate and an apple flip, and it was there that he told her more about his friendship with Sam.

"He's so cool, Boo's owner Sam. Did I tell you he's a cop?"

"Ah no, really?" said Andy, trying to look as if the information came as a surprise. "Is he tough?"

"Kinda," said Ethan. "I can see why bad guys would get scared of him. He can be kinda gruff, you know what I mean? But he can be a real softie too. You should see him around Boo – when he's not shouting at her for misbehaving, he's pretty soppy with her."

Andy tried to hide a smile. She could imagine that. She looked at the dog, who was quietly sitting alongside their outdoor table. She leaned over to stroke Boo and pictured Sam doing the same thing. In a couple of hour's time, his hand would most likely be where hers was now, skimming over Boo's soft fur. And he would have no idea.

"So Sam's a patrol officer, huh?" she said.

"Nah, he's a detective," said Ethan. "Well almost a detective. He's still training."

Andy nearly choked on her apple flip.

"Really?" There was no need to fake looking surprised this time.

"Yep. He has to work really hard studying but he's doing well in his exams so far."

My God. Sam, a detective. He was the archetypal street cop – it was hard to imagine him out of uniform and investigating cases in more depth. But thinking about it, he'd be good. He was smart, persistent, thorough, a good lateral thinker. He'd make a great detective, she had no doubt.

"Sometimes he gets really tired, with working long hours and studying so he comes over to our place for dinner. The other week, he fell asleep on the sofa while we were watching Spiderman. Mom says he works too hard."

Hmmm. That was just a bit cosy for her liking, Sam having dinner with Ethan and Stephanie, watching movies and falling asleep on the sofa. It could all be completely innocent, but still…

As much as she wanted to know more about Sam and what was happening in his life, she had to bite her tongue in case Ethan became suspicious of why his new running companion was so interested in his neighbour. She had to wait for him to volunteer information, but when it came it was like being handed a precious jewel. Everything Ethan told her about Sam, from how he'd enlisted Ethan's help to fix his gate (at last, that thing had been broken for forever) to how Sam had gone to St Catharine's to spend the weekend with his sister, made her feel closer to him and helped to ease the ache she felt at missing him. A little, at least.

* * *

"So, have you got your dress ready for the party tonight?" asked Charlotte as they ate lunch the following Friday.

"Uh-huh," Andy nodded. The last thing she felt like doing was going to the party Charlotte and Travis were holding to celebrate their 15th wedding anniversary. For a start, Charlotte was still getting on her nerves. Plus it was hypocritical that Charlotte should be pretending to be happily married when she was screwing her personal trainer three times a week.

But Nick had told her Travis had said something about getting together with his supplier, so perhaps he had invited the guy to the party. This could be a chance to try to crack the investigation. She certainly hoped so.

The invitation said formal dress, so Andy had bought a figure-hugging black cocktail dress with silver trim around the neckline and waist. Charlotte had been going on about how they'd hired a jazz band and a catering company, and chosen a menu with the most expensive hors d'oeuvres. There would be waiters serving the food and champagne, of course.

"It's going to be very upmarket," boasted Charlotte. "It's just a shame Travis has gone and invited so many employees. I hope all those army losers he's got selling his stuff don't embarrass us in front of our other guests."

Now Andy really wanted to smack her. Not just because "army losers selling his stuff" referred to Melissa's husband Peter, but because from what Nick said, a lot of the guys Travis had recruited to work for him had been through really tough times in Afghanistan, and were only dealing drugs because they'd had difficulty adjusting to civilian life after returning home.

Travis had taken advantage of them and preyed on their vulnerabilities. He paid them well and created an atmosphere of camaraderie that reminded them of their army days. He offered them plenty of free drugs, so that some of them ended up addicted themselves. They felt an intense loyalty, and if ever they were arrested, they would never inform on him – other than Matt Nicholls, that was, but of course Travis knew nothing about that.

Andy thought about the network of "losers" who had funded Charlotte's lavish lifestyle by doing Travis's dirty work for him, and it renewed her determination to make a success of this case. They might not be able to pin anything on Charlotte, but if Travis was arrested and jailed then his wife would be in for a rude awakening when her privileged life went down the toilet, and Andy would like to see that.

"I'm having another session with JC today," said Charlotte, her words cutting through Andy's thoughts. "You can sort out the kids, right?"

"Sure," said Andy, gritting her teeth. "It would be my pleasure."

* * *

"Wow, you're running really fast today," puffed Ethan as they completed their third and final lap of the park.

"I'm sorry," said Andy. "I'm in a bad mood. Running fast helps."

"Remind me never to make you angry," said Ethan, standing with his hands on his hips as he tried to regain his breath. Even Boo was panting much more heavily than usual.

"Sorry, was that too much?"

"Nah, I need to up my training," said Ethan. "We've got a track meet next week and I want to finish in the top three."

They walked through the entrance of the park and across the car park towards the community centre.

"You got any homework to do?" asked Andy.

"Nope, done it all."

"Apple flip?"

"Yep."

Ten minutes later they were sitting at a table outside the café next to the community centre, Boo at their feet. Andy was feeling a little less grumpy – the run had really helped and Ethan's chatter was a pick-me-up too. He was a nice kid.

"Hey guess what – I'm going to be able to catch up with my old friends in Hamilton in July."

"That great Ethan," said Andy, looking down as she skimmed the foam off her coffee with a spoon. "You going back for a visit?"

"Yep. I'm going to go and see my friend Jack while Mom and Sam go to a concert."

"What?" Andy's head shot up.

"Yeah, they're going to see some band together and they're on at Copps Coliseum. So we get to go to Hamilton."

Andy tried to keep her voice normal. How many times had she asked Sam to go to concerts with her? He'd refused every time. "What band?"

"Umm, I think they're called Hurry or something. Nah, Rush."

Andy let out the breath she realised she'd been holding. OK, so Rush was one of Sam's favourite bands. He'd be really keen to see them. She supposed she wasn't surprised when he'd refused her suggestions to see One Republic, Maroon Five and Taylor Swift.

"That's great," said Andy. She hesitated, and then even though she knew she shouldn't, she asked Ethan the question she didn't really want an answer to.

"So, it sounds like your mom and Sam get on well. Are they dating?"

"Well…" Ethan finished chewing a mouthful of apple flip. "They're not dating, like going out for dinner or anything. But…"

He looked at her conspiratorially. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Sure," said Andy, suddenly aware of her heart thudding in her ears.

"I think Mom and Sam really like each other like… well, like boyfriend and girlfriend, and they're just trying to hide it from me. I think they've been talking about Sam being my dad – well, my stepdad one day."

"Wow," said Andy, her throat suddenly so dry she could barely get the words out. "That's ah, that's cool."

"I so hope they do get married. Sam is just the greatest guy."

"Uh, I'm sure he is," said Andy. Now she felt sick.

"He's coming over to dinner tonight," said Ethan. "He really loves my mom's lasagna. Hey Melissa, do you think I should say that I know what's going on between them? Maybe it might hurry things along. Or should I just let it be?"

How the hell was she meant to answer that?

'Uh, Ethan, maybe you should just let things proceed at their natural pace. I believe the universe has a plan for us all, and if it wants your mom and Sam to get together, then they will." She hoped her voice sounded normal to Ethan – to her it sounded like she was being strangled.

He looked at her like he was puzzled by her words. "Yeah, maybe. But wouldn't it be great? I know you don't know Sam Melissa, but he's such a really cool guy. I would be so happy if he was my dad."

"I'm sure you would be," said Andy. She tried to smile but it was tricky when her heart was crumbling into tiny pieces.

* * *

"Hey Melissa, don't you think you should take it easy?" asked Nick, watching her with a look of concern as she downed yet another glass of champagne. "That's your third one."

"I'm good, thanks Peter," snapped Andy, draining the champagne flute and handing it to a passing waiter. "Never been better."

They were standing on the terrace of Travis and Charlotte's home, where the party was in full swing. Andy knew getting drunk was a huge mistake, that it was utterly unprofessional and if she said or did something that blew the whole case she would lose her job. But she couldn't help it, she wanted to get wasted. She had lost Sam, and now she just wanted to drink herself into oblivion.

"Melissa, I think maybe we should go home, and you can tell me what the hell is wrong with you," Nick said, lowering his voice.

"No thanks Peter, let's stay and have a good time. Oh look, here comes your boss, the delightful Travis Gordon."

She watched as Travis walked toward them, flanked by two men she'd never seen before. But as they got closer, she took a better look at the big muscle-bound, completely bald man on Travis's right, and froze. She had seen him before – but where? The alcohol was making her thinking fuzzy, and it wasn't until the guy was standing in front of her that she remembered where.

Shit. He used to work for Anton Hill, and he had been in the bar that day she and Sam had rescued Emily Starling. She held her breath as she saw him looking at her. Please don't recognize me, she prayed silently. It had been a few years ago, and she did look very different now, in a slinky dress instead of a uniform and with her hair loose rather than tied back. Also, she realised, the sleazebag was looking at her breasts and not her face.

"Hello Melissa, you are looking stunning this evening," smiled Travis. "Have you met my associates? This is Aaron," he said nodding towards the guy on his left, "and Greg."

Greg raised his gaze from her chest to her face and their eyes connected for a moment. Andy held her breath, then broke into a big smile. She hadn't been smiling last time she saw Greg, hopefully he wouldn't recognize her if she was smiling now.

"Hey guys, nice to meet you," she said as brightly as she could.

"Greg and Aaron handle my personal security and, ah, enforcement requirements," grinned Travis. Now the penny dropped – Nick had talked to her about the two heavies Travis had employed to inflict pain on people when he deemed it necessary.

"Now Peter," Travis said, turning to Nick, "you need to talk to Greg and Aaron about that spot of trouble you had with one of our dealers the other night. Let them know all the details and they'll remedy the problem."

Andy recalled Nick telling her how one of the dealers had come up short with cash, claiming one of his clients must have somehow shortchanged him. Travis obviously didn't believe the guy, and thought he'd taken the money himself.

"Why don't you find a quiet spot to discuss the situation so Greg and Aaron can take care of things tomorrow? In the meantime, I'll keep your lovely wife occupied."

Andy could see the concern in Nick's eyes when they met hers, but there was nothing he could do. She watched him as he followed the two enforcers towards the house, then turned back to Travis, who was now standing uncomfortably close to her.

"You are a truly beautiful woman Melissa," said Travis, his cold blue eyes glinting as he looked at her. "I hope Peter appreciates you."

He reached out, and ran his finger from her shoulder all the way down her arm to her wrist. "I hope he keeps you…" he paused, sliding his finger into her palm and stroking it, "satisfied."

"Oh he does," said Andy, her voice unnaturally cheerful. She wanted to pull away from him and sock him in the face. The scumbag was hitting on her, at his party to celebrate his wedding anniversary. So his wife was having an affair – obviously he didn't take his wedding vows too seriously either. And he thought nothing of hitting on another man's wife. What a bastard.

She was aware that she was becoming a little befuddled with alcohol, but she wasn't so far gone that she was going to lose it with Travis – as much as she wanted to. She managed to retort, "He satisfies me several times a day actually."

Travis's eyebrows shot up. "Well, good for him," he drawled smoothly. "But let me just say, if you ever find it is not enough, don't hesitate to come and see me."

He removed his finger from her hand, put it to his mouth, and sucked the tip. It took Andy all her self control not to knee him in the groin and hopefully incapacitate him for life. No more satisfying anybody for you, sleazeball.

"I'll bear that in mind," she said. She looked over his shoulder and thankfully spotted Charlotte. "Oh look, here comes your lovely wife."

Travis smiled at her. "Well, I should go and see what she wants. Please excuse me."

Andy let out a huge sigh of relief as he walked away from her. She felt dirty, like she needed to scrub herself in the shower. She hoped Nick would hurry up and come back to her. Now she did want to go home. She'd had enough.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a waiter walk behind her and she spun around.

"Good timing," she said, reaching for another glass of champagne. "That's just what I need."

* * *

Andy was fuming. Nick seemed to take forever with Greg and Aaron, and on top of being so upset over Sam still, she was so disgusted by her encounter with Travis that she took a couple more glasses of champagne from passing waiters and knocked them back. She wasn't used to drinking bubbles and they went straight to her head.

By the time Nick finally came back she was feeling pretty dizzy.

"Where've you been?" she demanded. "How could you leave me with Travis? He hit on me."

"Really?"

"Yes really. I want to go."

"I can't leave," he said. "I've just been introduced to this guy I think could be the supplier. He's South American, and supposedly in the freight business but I think it could be our guy. I need to go back and rejoin the conversation that's going on with him, but I wanted to make sure you're ok. Maybe you should go home now, without me."

"No way," she spluttered. "I'm not leaving you on your own. What if something happened?"

"It won't. Look I'm worried. Something is obviously troubling you. I don't think you should be here."

"Well, I'm not going without you, and if you're staying so am I."

"I really need to do this. There's a very good chance he is the supplier."

"OK then, let's go talk to him."

"Are you sure you're up to this? You seem pretty drunk."

"I'm good. Let's go."

How she got through the next couple of hours she didn't know. Somehow they ended up in the games room with a bunch of party guests, including the South American guy, Ricardo, talking around the bar and downing shots.

Andy had been trying to take it easy on the tequila but she had succumbed to pressure from the others and downed a few. Nick had also had quite a few, and she noticed he was slurring his words a little. But he seemed to be hitting it off with Ricardo and as addled as her brain was with alcohol, she knew things were going well.

Eventually they had managed to leave, and as they stumbled out of the cab and up to their apartment Andy realised she was completely trashed. God, she hoped she hadn't said anything she shouldn't.

"I'm very drunk," she said to Nick as she tried to clean her teeth. "I'm having trouble stringing a severance together. I mean slinging a sentence forever. Together…. Oh shit."

"I'm not surprised Andy," he said. "You consumed a huge amount of alcohol beverlies tonight.. I mean beverages. Oh shit, me too. How the hell did this happen?"

"The pressure is getting to us," she said, stumbling into the bedroom. "This is soooo hard, all this pretending. I want to stop pretending. I want something to be real. I want my wife back. Oh fuck it, I mean my life."

She kicked off her shoes, and without thinking, she yanked on the zip of her dress, which then slid down her body into a pile around her ankles so that she was stood in front of Nick in just her bra and panties.

"I think my life as I knew it is gone," mumbled Nick, pulling off his clothes. "Gail will be so angry with me for walking out on her a second time she'll never have me back. I've completely fucked that up."

"We've both fucked up," she said, pulling back the duvet and crawling into bed. Sam didn't want her. He'd found someone else.

All of a sudden she was sobbing, letting out the emotions she'd kept bottled up since Ethan told her about his mom and Sam. "I miss Sam," she wailed. "I want him back."

"Hey, hey, don't cry," said Nick, sliding into bed next to her. "Don't, Andy. Please don't cry."

And the next thing she knew he had reached for her and she was in his arms bawling her eyes out. She pressed her face into his bare chest as she wailed, and was aware of his thigh pressing against hers. Feeling his hard body against hers only reminded her what she was missing and she cried even harder. She longed to be with Sam again, for him to hold her in his arms, to kiss her with that lovely soft mouth of his. Oh God, Sam was such a good kisser. She missed that so much, and the other things he did to her with his mouth. And the way he made her feel when he touched her all over… Oh God, she wanted him with every cell in her body.

"Shush," Nick was saying. "It'll be OK. It will."

One of his hands was on her back, stroking her to try and comfort her, and it felt good. And she knew it was wrong, that this was Nick and not Sam, but all she could think about was being held and kissed and loved, and she lifted her head from Nick's chest and she leaned forward and before she could stop herself, she pressed her lips against his.

And he kissed her back.

**A/N: OK, so Andy and Sam's future together just hit a low point on the rollercoaster ride that is their fate. But surely that means the only way is up, right? Don't give up on them… I haven't. This story is not finished yet!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N Amazing... I've managed to post two chapters with just a few days' gap rather than several weeks or even months. I'm on a roll! Thanks to everyone who is sticking with this fic, and hopefully this chapter will make you a lot happier than the previous one...**

The next day was Saturday, and while Andy was in her apartment suffering the mother of all hangovers, Sam was at home enjoying his day off. He'd finally sat his last exam the day before, and while the results were yet to come in, he was quietly confident he had done quite well. It was a relief that the pressure was off and it was so good to no longer have to spend all his spare hours studying.

Today he didn't plan on opening a single book. After taking Boo for her early morning run, he'd come home and cleaned the house, done the grocery shopping and mowed the back yard. Then Ethan had come over and was helping him to sand down his fence, ready to paint it.

It was a warm spring day, and Boo sat in the shade of the fence, panting and drooling as she watched them.

After a few minutes of working alongside each other in silence, Sam looked over at Ethan and said, "OK buddy, what's up?"

"What?"

"Ethan, you've hardly said a word. That's not like you. What's going on?"

Ethan paused. "It's nothing, I just…"

"Just what?" Sam looked over at him. He'd only known the kid a couple of months but already he knew him well enough to know something was troubling him.

"I don't know if I should say anything…"

"Have you been asked to keep a secret?"

"No, it's not like that. It's just…"

"OK, if it is something troubling you and you haven't been asked to keep it secret, you need to spill the beans," said Sam. He put down the sander and walked across the lawn to the garden bench Sarah had given him for Christmas a few years back. He motioned for Ethan to sit down next to him.

"We're friends, right?"

"Yep."

"You can tell me anything Ethan."

"OK." The boy nodded.

"What's up buddy?"

"It's about my mom…" Ethan began.

"OK."

"… and you," finished the boy. Sam looked surprised.

"What?"

"I know you come over for dinner a lot and you and Mom are going to that concert together and I was wondering if you were, like, dating or anything, because if you were I just wanted you to know that I think it's a good thing."

Ethan paused for a brief moment but before Sam had a chance to say anything he launched into another outburst. Now he'd finally started getting things off his chest, there was no stopping him.

"Actually I would think it was a great thing because I think you are a really cool guy and if you do decide that you really like Mom and you like, you know, want to get together and stuff, well, don't worry about me because I would be happy, in fact I'd be real happy because I, uh, I'd love to have you as a dad, Sam."

Whoa. Sam's head was spinning. Ethan thought he and Stephanie were getting together? Had he really given that impression? He liked her but not like that. Not when his heart belonged to Andy.

He looked at Ethan, at the hopeful expression on the boy's face and knew he was about to shatter his dreams.

"Uh Ethan, I like your mom – I like her a lot. But I'm so sorry, I don't have, uh, romantic feelings for her."

"Oh." Ethan's eyes met Sam's and he looked like he was about to cry.

"It's not that there is anything wrong with your mom," Sam said hastily. "She's really nice, and good fun, and she's really pretty too. But I have… there's someone…" he paused. "I'm in love with someone else."

"Really?" Ethan looked crestfallen. "But you never said anything."

"Well," began Sam. "I'm kinda private about things like that."

"Who is she? Why haven't I met her?"

"She's a police officer too. She's had to go away for a while, before I met you. I'm not sure when she will be back. But when she does get back we'll be, you know, together… I hope."

"You hope?"

Sam ran a hand across his jaw. This was going to take some explaining. "Yeah, well, she wasn't too happy with me when she went away. But hopefully, when she comes back, we can, uh… fix things. I got Boo for her. A present for when she comes back. Hopefully that will help."

"That's nice. But what if she's still not happy with you?"

"Well, I will do everything I can to make her happy."

"If she doesn't like Boo, can I have her?"

Sam smiled at him. "I'll think about it. But I think she'll like Boo."

Ethan still looked extremely disappointed.

"Is she nice?"

"Yeah, she is. She's… she's wonderful really. I think you'd like her. She's kind and she's funny and she cares about people a lot."

"Hmmm." Ethan didn't look impressed. "Is she pretty?"

Sam smiled thinking about Andy. "She's beautiful. Inside and out."

"Great," muttered Ethan.

"Sorry buddy. I'm sure your mom will find someone nice."

"Yeah. Won't be you though."

Sam didn't know what to say to that at first, so he just ruffled Ethan's hair. "Yeah, but we're still friends, right?"

Ethan nodded and was silent for a moment. "Sam, what does it mean by the universe having plans for people?"

"Uh, it means… well some people think things are meant to happen a certain way. Kinda like things are planned out ahead. Why'd you ask?"

"Cos I was telling Melissa – that's this lady who sometimes comes running with me and Boo over by the community centre – that I thought it would be good if you married my mom and became my dad and she said it depended on whether that was part of the universe's plan.

"But Sam, I don't really get what she means. What do the planets and the solar system have to do with two people getting married?"

Sam laughed. "Ethan, I don't get that either. Hey, shall we get back to sanding?"

As they walked back to the fence Ethan turned to him.

"Sam, can we still hang out together when your girlfriend comes back?"

Sam smiled at him. "Of course we can. You're my buddy, Ethan. That's not going to change."

Ethan returned his smile. "Good."

* * *

"Congratulations Detective Swarek," said Frank, holding out his hand to shake Sam's. "You got some of the best results in the detective exams ever. Good job."

"Thanks Frank," said Sam. "All those hours, cracking books… it was worth it."

"Sure was. Now, I think it is time you went and celebrated. Give me half an hour, and I will see you at the Penny."

"Actually Frank, I think I might just go straight home. It's been a long day."

"Really?" Frank looked at Sam, concerned. "No celebrations?"

"Nah, not today. Another time maybe. I just want to go home and see my dog."

"Your dog?" Frank shook his head. "Now I've heard it all. OK, Sam, if you're sure. But I owe you drink."

"I won't let you forget. See you tomorrow Frank."

Frank watched as Sam left his office. Swarek was one of the best patrol cops he'd ever worked with, and he was on track to be one of the best detectives. He had a huge amount of respect for the guy, but despite having known him for more than 10 years, he still did not understand him sometimes. He was an enigma, a closed book. He should be delighted with his results, so why did he look like it was painful to crack a smile?

There was just no figuring out some people.

* * *

Sam got home half an hour later, his arms full of plastic suit bags containing his uniforms, which he'd just collected from the drycleaner's. All nice and clean, so he could put them away at the back of his closet. He wasn't going to be wearing them again, and he had to admit, a part of him felt utterly bereft. For so many years, the uniform had defined him, and now he couldn't hide behind it anymore.

He did enjoy detective work – much more than he had expected actually – and he was secretly pleased to have done so well on the exams, especially since he had flunked so many tests earlier in his life.

But something was missing, and it had dawned on him on the drive home that success just didn't have the same impact when you had nobody special to share it with.

After he hung up his unforms, he walked down to Ethan's house to collect Boo. She was sitting on the floor by the sofa where Ethan was watching TV (Stephanie wouldn't let the dog up on the furniture, she was much tougher than Sam when it came to Boo) but jumped up and greeted him happily when he walked in.

"Do you want to stay to dinner Sam?" asked Stephanie. "It's my famous tuna bake."

"No thanks," said Sam. "I've got dinner sorted. Hey Ethan, how'd your algebra test go?"

"Hmmm?" said Ethan, his eyes glued to the TV screen, which was showing a BMX biking race.

"Algebra test, you know the one you were worried about? Hello, earth to Ethan, can you hear me?"

"Ethan, answer Sam or turn that off," called out Stephanie. "Stop being so rude."

Ethan reluctantly turned his face away from the TV. "It was okay," he said. "I got 17 out of 25, so I didn't fail."

Immediately his head snapped back around to watch the bikes flying through the air. "Wow, this is amazing – you want to sit down and watch it with me Sam?"

"No thanks, I'd better head home," said Sam. "You running with me in the morning?"

"Hmm?" mumbled Ethan, riveted by the TV again.

"Are you running with me in the morning?"

"Yep," Ethan managed, before suddenly gasping loudly. On the screen there had been a huge crash, and all the riders were piling up on top of each other. "Look at this. Holy moly!"

"Holy moly? What 12-year-old says holy moly these days?" said Sam, trying not to blush as he remembered the last time he'd heard those words, and what he had done to Andy to make her say them.

"He's been coming out with that a lot lately," said Stephanie. "Goodness only knows where he has picked it up."

"I think I've got it from Melissa," said Ethan joining in the conversation. "She says it quite a lot."

"Melissa?" queried Sam. "Have you got a girlfriend Ethan?"

"No," said Ethan, indignant. "I told you, remember? She's the lady who comes running with me and Boo in the afternoons. The one who says the universe makes plans for people."

"Oh right, yeah, I remember."

"It's a weird thing to say but at least he's not dropping the F-bomb," said Stephanie. "You wouldn't believe how many of the kids in my art classes do. It's digusting."

"I agree with you there," said Sam. "OK Boo, come on. Hometime. See you guys later."

"See you Sam," smiled Stephanie.

"Mmmm," said Ethan, transfixed by the TV.

* * *

Sam didn't turn on his television until he'd finished dinner and put the dishwasher on. There was nothing much to watch, so he slid a DVD into the player. Boo jumped up on to the sofa next to him and rested her chin on his knee. He stroked her head as the credits began and as he ran his fingers through her silky fur he suddenly felt a sharp pang of emotion. Andy should be here on the sofa next to him. It should be her hair he was tangling his fingers in, her who should be snuggling up to him. Instead he had a dog.

He instantly felt guilty for those uncharitable thoughts. He was thankful for having Boo, he really was. She was definitely helping to ease his loneliness. But there were times, like now, when his longing for Andy was a physical ache. He wanted to be chilling out with her. He wanted to be celebrating his success with her. What he really wanted was to be in bed with her, doing things to her that made her gasp, "holy moly."

"Oh Boo," he said. "Where is she? What's she doing, right this moment?"

Boo gazed up at him, a puzzled look in her big brown eyes. "Yes, I know you don't know, but cut me some slack. I miss her. I miss Andy. I want her back."

Sighing, he turned up the volume on the remote control as the movie began. This was the second time he'd watched The Notebook on his own, and while he didn't love it like Andy, who'd seen it dozens of times, he didn't hate it either. Watching it made him feel closer to her, even though they'd never actually seen it together because he'd always refused.

"You know what I think of chic flicks," he'd said.

Now he tried to imagine her sitting alongside him watching it , and guessed which bits she would really love. He vowed that when they were back together, and there was a torrential downpour, he was going to take her outside in the rain and kiss the face off of her.

Maybe it might go some way to making up for the last time they had stood in the rain together, when he had ruined her life and made one of the biggest mistakes of his.

* * *

Ethan had seemed to get over his disappointment that Sam wasn't going to marry his mother and returned to his usual talkative self. After finishing their run a few days later, he chattered non-stop about how his chances of doing well at the next track meet had dramatcially improved thanks to one of the other members of the track team tripping and falling down a flight of stairs.

"He's broken his ankle, and it's not that I'm horrible and think 'woo hoo, that's great', but it does mean I've got a better chance, and you gotta be pleased about that, right?" said Ethan, following Sam into his kitchen.

"It could be ages before he can run again – breaking your ankle is pretty bad, isn't it?"

"It can be," said Sam, in between gulps of water from a drink he'd just poured himself.

"I've never broken any bones," said Ethan, sipping his water. "Mom reckons that is pretty good going for a boy my age – she says boys are always breaking bones. Did you ever break anything?"

"Yep," said Sam, draining his glass and putting it in the dishwasher. "Broke my arm when I was 14."

"How?" asked Ethan.

Sam paused before answering. "Climbing a fence," he said. "I fell and when I put my arm out to break my fall, I snapped the bone."

That was the edited version. He wasn't about to tell Ethan the true story, that he and two friends were running away after being caught trying to break into a car. Ethan didn't need to know about his misspent youth.

"Ow, that would've hurt. Hey, did you know that there are 206 bones in the human body?"

"Actually, I did. How'd you know? They teach you that in school?"

"Nah, Melissa told me."

"Melissa the running lady?"

"Yeah, she was helping me with my homework after our run. She said it was on Grey's Anatomy."

Sam paused for a minute. Ethan's words took him back to the women's locker room at the barn, to the moment he really blew his chances with Andy. He should have told her he loved her again. Instead he made that stupid crack about Grey's Anatomy. Idiot. He remembered the stricken look on her face. One minute he was telling her he'd meant what he'd said when she was holding the grenade, the next he was making a dumb joke. If only he could have taken back those words.

He looked down at Ethan and said, "She's right. I saw it on Grey's Anatomy too. TV's gotta be good for something."

* * *

A momentary distraction was all it took. Sam and Traci had gone to a restaurant to talk to one of the kitchenhands, who was suspected of beating his girlfriend, and although he was very edgy it appeared they'd just about talked him into accompanying them quietly to the station. And then Sam had seen her out of the corner of his eye – a tall, slender woman with long brown hair walking past the window of the restaurant.

His head had snapped around to look at her and in the instant it took for Sam to realise it wasn't Andy, the kitchenhand had grabbed a knife off a bench and was waving it at them, screaming. Sam's instincts kicked in and he went to draw his gun but before he could the guy lashed out with the knife and it sliced into Sam's arm.

Ignoring the pain, he took advantage of the guy's obvious shock that he'd just gone and stabbed a cop and with his good arm, reached out and grabbed the guy's wrist, wrenching it until he howled in pain and dropped the knife. Traci was there straight away, helping him to cuff the perp, and then grabbing a clean tea towel to wrap around the wound while calling for uniformed back-up at the same time.

"I should call the medics too," she said. "Sam, that looks nasty."

"Nah, don't. It's all right," he said, trying to shrug it off. But by the time Peck and Epstein had arrived to haul the kitchenhand back to the barn, his arm was throbbing with the pain.

"I'm taking you to the hospital," said Traci. "You need stitches."

"Okie doke Mom," he said. She was right. It wasn't too deep and it didn't appear to have cut through any tendons or nerves, but it was bleeding like crazy and hurting like hell. It was ironic really, he thought as he followed her to the car, how he'd called things off with Andy because he felt like working with her was too a big a distraction; and now here he was, getting hurt because of her when she wasn't even around. Andy McNally was a distraction whether she was here or not.

He needed seven stitches, which the doctor put in after numbing his arm with anaesthetic. The jab helped him to get through the paperwork he had to complete on the case, but it was starting to wear off by the time he got to Ethan and Stephanie's to collect Boo.

"Oh my god, Sam – what happened?" asked Ethan as soon as he saw the dressing.

Sam told him, waving as he did to Stephanie who was on the phone in the kitchen.

"Is it sore?" asked Ethan.

"Yep," said Sam as he walked through to the lounge to get Boo. No point in sugar-coating these things – stab wounds hurt. "But I'm lucky, the doctor says it could have been a lot worse."

"Hey, how'd you get to the hospital?" Ethan was grinning.

"My partner drove me. Why?"

"Because you could have gone in a hambulance!"

Sam stopped in his tracks. "A what?"

"A hambulance. It's a joke. It's like ambulance, only it's hambulance." Seeing Sam's face, he hurried to explain. "It's an old joke, from the book of 1001 corniest jokes."

"You've got that book?"

"Nah, Melissa told me about it."

"The book?"

"Yeah, and the joke. One day when Mom had to stay late for a staff meeting at the community centre Melissa told her friend Charlotte to leave her behind, and she took me for a burger. She called the waitress over, and she said she had a problem with her BLT, and the waitress needed to call a hambulance."

He began giggling at the memory, but stopped when he saw the stunned look on Sam's face. "It was funny," he said, all defensive because Sam was looking very confused. "Melissa says it comes from a book of really old and corny jokes. She said it to make me laugh. Sam, what's the matter?"

Sam's brain had gone into overdrive. This woman, this Melissa, knew the hambulance joke, and told it to Ethan exactly the same way he had told it to Andy that time they'd gone to Sudbury. It was Melissa who had talked to Ethan about the universe having a plan for people. Melissa who told Ethan that according to Grey's Anatomy, there were 206 bones in the human body. Melissa who said holy moly.

"Ethan, what does Melissa look like?"

"Melissa? Uh, she's real pretty, kinda like a model. Although she's usually sweaty and red in the face when I see her, on account of running. She's quite tall and skinny too, real skinny."

"What colour hair does she have?"

"Brown. Why?"

"Long or short?"

"Long, well she usually has it in a pony tail and wears a baseball cap. It's hard to tell how long it is."

"What colour are her eyes?"

"I don't know. Sam…"

"Think, think really hard Ethan. Are they blue, green…?"

"Nah, they're brown. I'm pretty sure they're brown. Why Sam?"

"I just… she sounds a bit like someone I thought I might know. Ethan, what did you tell her about who Boo belongs to?"

"I just said she belonged to my neighbour and he paid me to look after her in the afternoons. Was that bad?"

"No, Ethan, it wasn't. What did you tell her about me?"

"I just said your name was Sam, and you couldn't take Boo for walks in the afternoons because you were working."

"Did you say I was a cop?"

"Uh, yeah. Am I in trouble for telling her that?"

"No, you're not. Not at all." Sam stood very still, his brain whirring.

It couldn't be a coincidence. Melissa knew Ethan's neighbour Sam was a cop with a dog called Boo Radley. She told Ethan the hambulance joke. And her theory on the universe having plans for people. The last time he'd heard that was in a bed in a cold loft apartment, with Andy in his arms, just moments after they'd made love for the first time.

As for learning about the number of bones in the human body from Grey's Anatomy. OK, so lots of people watched that show but still…

Plus who said holy moly? He only knew one person who did.

"Are you OK Sam?" asked Ethan again.

"Uh, yeah, I'm OK," Sam replied.

But he wasn't. His heart was pounding noisily in his chest, and all his nerves were jangling with excitement.

Melissa was Andy. She had to be.


	9. Chapter 9

"So," said Andy to Ethan, after the waitress at the café put their drinks in front of them, "is it just me, or do you reckon Boo is getting better behaved?"

"I think you're right," said Ethan, watching Boo as she slurped greedily from the bowl of water reserved for canine customers. "She always does what you say when you give her orders. She likes you."

"I like her too," said Andy wistfully. "I still think her owner needs to take her to obedience classes though."

"Yep, me too," said Ethan, using the back of his hand to wipe his brow, which was still sweaty after their run. "Sam might have a bit more time to do that, now that he's passed all his exams to be a detective."

"He did? Wow, that's great," said Andy, the words spilling out before she realised it was totally inappropriate for Melissa to be excited about some guy she'd never met becoming a detective.

"Yeah, it is," said Ethan. "He's got much more free time now, so he's been doing lots of stuff around his house and I've been helping. Turns out I'm really good at painting."

"Good for you," said Andy. "I bet he appreciates your help."

"Yeah, he does, especially since he got stabbed."

Andy nearly choked on her coffee. "He what?"

"Oh, didn't I tell you? He got stabbed. Some guy in a restaurant sliced his arm with a knife."

"Is he ok?" asked Andy, desperately trying to keep the panic out of her voice.

"Yeah, he had seven stitches but he's good. Sam's really tough."

"That's good. I'm pleased he's OK," Andy said, aware of her pulse racing. Just because she had to get used to the idea that Sam had moved on didn't mean she didn't still care about him. She would always care.

"So Ethan, how are things?" she said, taking a deep breath. "You know, with your mom and Sam? Are they good?"

She had not brought up the subject since their discussion the day of Charlotte and Travis's party, mostly because she didn't think she could handle hearing any details about Sam and Stephanie's relationship. It would be like rubbing salt into the wound. It was bad enough that Sam's new girlfriend was at the community centre every day. And every time she had caught a glimpse of Stephanie, she could only turn away or rush past. It was too hard to deal with.

But now, she couldn't help herself. She had to find out more. And she figured it would be better to know what the situation was for when Dakota was over and she went back to 15.

"Uh, not really," said Ethan. He looked down at his smoothie.

"No? Why not?" She really should not be probing a 12-year-old boy for information about his mother's love life, but this involved Sam. She needed to know.

"You know how I thought they were dating and Sam might be my stepdad one day?"

Andy nodded.

"Turns out I was wrong. He doesn't like my mom… like that."

Andy couldn't breathe for a moment. Was she hearing him right?

"He's not going to be my stepdad," Ethan said glumly.

Andy's emotions were being pulled in opposite directions. Ethan looked so upset she wanted to give him a big hug. But at the same time she wanted to leap on to the table and do a happy dance.

Sam was not with Stephanie. She was sad for Ethan, but elated for herself.

Maybe she and Sam still had a chance to fix their broken relationship. She was allowing herself a brief moment of fantasising and picturing herself in Sam's arms when all her emotions were swiftly swamped by another overwhelming feeling: Guilt.

Oh my God.

Nick.

She'd made a terrible mistake. She had thrown herself at Nick because she thought things were over for good with Sam. And because Nick was nearly as drunk as she was, and he'd thought things were over between him and Gail, he had responded.

Oh God. What had they done? Well, of course she knew what they had done, she wasn't that drunk, but still…

The moment she had woken up the next morning she had felt sick and it wasn't just the hangover.

She had screwed up big time. When Nick woke up a moment later and looked at her as they lay facing each other, his eyes widened in alarm and she knew he felt the same way.

"Oh my God Andy, I'm so sorry," said Nick, scooting over to the far side of the bed. "I shouldn't have…"

"No," interrupted Andy. "I started it. It's my fault."

"I was drunk," said Nick. "I wouldn't have done it otherwise. I mean… not that you're not attractive and I do really like you but…."

"…. not like that," said Andy finishing his sentence. "I know, I feel the same. It's just been kind of unnatural, pretending to be married and everything. And I was so drunk, I just wasn't thinking straight."

She stared over at him for a long moment. "Can we just forget this ever happened?"

"Of course we can," he said, and she was so relieved she almost burst into tears.

But thinking about it now, it really hit home just how badly she had messed up that night. It didn't matter that they had agreed to forget it about it, it had still happened. But if only she had known the truth about Sam and Stephanie, it would never have happened at all.

Oh shit.

"Melissa, are you even listening to what I'm saying?"

"What?" She suddenly became aware of Ethan's voice cutting through her jumbled thoughts.

"I said I don't think I'm going to like her."

"Like who?" She had managed to completely block out what he was saying while she was thinking about that awful night.

"Sam's girlfriend." He sighed noisily. "What's the point in me telling you about her if you're not going to listen?"

"Sam's got a girlfriend?"

"That's what I just said," he grumbled. "He said he doesn't have romantic feelings for Mom because he's in love with someone else but she's gone away. And when she comes back he's going to do everything he can to make her happy because she wasn't very happy with him before.

"I don't know what he did to make her angry with him but he bought Boo to try to make it up to her. He says she's really nice but I don't believe it. If she's so nice why would she go away and leave him for so long? I don't think I'm going to like her. "

Andy was desperately trying to stop herself from breaking into a big grin. Sam wanted to make her happy. He had meant what he said that day. He did love her, and he was determined to do whatever it took to work things out between them.

"Ah, what else did he say about her?" asked Andy, trying to keep her voice neutral. She shouldn't be fishing for information but she couldn't help it.

"He said she was kind and funny. Oh, and really beautiful. Inside and out."

"He said that?"

"Yep. She may be beautiful but I bet she's horrible. I bet she won't want me hanging around anymore. And she might not want me to go running with Boo."

Andy didn't reply. _Beautiful. Inside and out._

She bit the inside of her top lip to stop the grin.

"You should give her a chance Ethan. You might find that she's OK."

"Yeah, maybe," said Ethan. "But I'm not holding my breath."

* * *

Ten minutes later Andy looked at her watch. The afterschool programme would be finished soon and Charlotte's kids would be ready to be collected.

"You ready?" she nodded to Ethan.

"Uh-huh," he said, standing up.

Andy felt like she was walking on air as they headed back to the community centre. Sam loved her. There was still a chance. She couldn't remember the last time she had been this happy.

Boo walked alongside them and didn't pull on the leash or try to run off like she used to. Andy was about to comment on that to Ethan when suddenly the damned dog proved her wrong and took off, yanking the leash out of Andy's hand.

"Boo!" yelled Andy. "Stop! Stop now!"

Boo completely ignored her and raced towards the parking lot, her ears flying behind her and the lead trailing along the ground through puddles left by rainfall earlier in the day. Both Andy and Ethan broke into a sprint, trying to catch up to her. There were a lot of cars coming and going at this time of day as parents arrived to pick up their kids. It was dangerous.

Boo was oblivious to the traffic. She charged across the driveway into the centre, headed straight for a man standing next to a grey truck. Andy was so busy looking out for cars driving in or out, and praying that the drivers saw the mad dog running past, that she didn't really pay any attention to him. It wasn't until she had almost caught up to Boo that she looked at the man, who had crouched down to scratch the setter's head.

She heard him speak in the same instant she recognised him, and nearly tripped over her own feet as he raised his voice to the dog.

"Damn it, Boo. What have you been told about running off? Naughty, naughty girl!"

Her first instinct was to keep going and throw herself into his arms. But she came to her senses just in time, and managed to stop.

He looked up at her, and stood up. Their eyes met and it felt like a giant magnet was sucking her towards him. It was all she could do not to leap on him.

She had never been so pleased to see anyone in her life. God, he looked good – thinner and leaner than the last time she had seen him, and his hair was slightly longer. She wanted to run her fingers through it.

His eyes – those beautiful, soulful big brown eyes that she loved so much – bored into her, and his mouth turned up into the beginning of a smile. She felt herself smiling in response.

Before either of them could say anything, Ethan spoke.

"Hey Sam, what are you doing here? Why aren't you at work?"

Sam pulled his eyes away from her and looked at Ethan. "I was working nearby and I just thought I would call by and see where you bring Boo for her run," said Sam. "I've heard so much about it."

God, she had missed the sound of his voice.

"Cool," said Ethan. "Come with me and I will show you where we go."

Ethan started to walk towards the gate into the park but Sam stayed rooted to the spot. His eyes turned back to Andy and his unrelenting gaze made her feel like she'd been washed in sunshine. Every single nerve ending in her body was tingling.

Realising Sam wasn't behind him, Ethan turned back. He looked at Sam, and noticed where he was looking.

"Oh, right, sorry," he said. "Sam, this is Melissa, who comes running with me and Boo."

He turned to her. "This is Boo's owner, Sam."

"Hi Sam, nice to meet you," said Andy, holding her hand out and hoping her voice sounded normal. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Me too. About you, I mean."

Sam stepped forward to shake her outstretched hand and as they touched she understood the expression about legs turning to jelly. She seriously wondered if her legs would hold her up – she felt sweak all over at his touch. His hand was cool, dry and soft. She wanted to never let go. And did she imagine it, or did he just run his thumb across the back of her hand?

"I, um, I love your dog Boo," said Andy, breaking into a wide smile. "She's a great dog."

"Yeah, she is," said Sam, smiling back at her and still holding her hand. "I'm so glad I got her."

"Me too," said Andy, before she realised Ethan was there and would be wondering what was going on. They were gazing at each other like a pair of lovesick teenagers. She pulled her hand away and saw a flicker of disappointment in Sam's eyes.

She quickly added, "I've been having so much fun running with her and Ethan."

"Right," said Sam, still staring at her.

Andy stared back, not sure what to say next. She wanted to touch him again. God, he looked good. He'd obviously been working out a lot – she could made out the ridges of his pecs under his tight black T-shirt . She was overcome with an intense longing to run her hands over his chest.

"Uh, thanks for helping to take her running," said Sam. "It uh, helps to stop her having too much energy. She trashes my house otherwise."

"So I've heard," Andy said.

"Ethan, huh?" said Sam.

"Yep. He's a great source of information."

"Sure is," smiled Sam. Oh God, there were the dimples. She thought her knees might give way.

Andy wracked her brain for something else to say. "So I hear you've got a girlfriend and she's beautiful on the inside and out" probably wasn't appropriate, with Ethan standing right there listening.

Before she could blurt out anything equally stupid, Boo suddenly barked. They all turned towards the setter who was sitting there looking from Sam to Andy and back to Sam again, her head going from side to side as if she was watching a tennis match.

"She knows," thought Andy. It was irrational, but somehow she was sure that damned dog just seemed to get the connection between her and Sam.

Sam caught her eye, and she knew he was thinking the same thing. Ethan just looked puzzled. Boo barked again, and Ethan said, "Hey Boo, what's up?"

The dog suddenly got to her feet, turned and ran off towards the park.

"Oh great," muttered Sam.

"It's OK, I'll get her," said Ethan, before he sprinted after Boo.

"Clever girl," grinned Andy as soon as Ethan was out of earshot. Her eyes locked on to Sam's again. "So how did you know?"

"Hambulance," smiled Sam. "And holy moly. Grey's Anatomy too – a bunch of stuff."

"I'm glad you came," she said. God, she wanted to touch him so much.

"I miss you Andy. " His voice was hoarse; she could tell he was speaking from his heart. "Are you all right?"

"I am now," she smiled back. "I miss you too."

"You look amazing," he said. "You are so beautiful."

"On the inside as well as out?"

He frowned for a moment then the penny dropped. "Ah, Ethan."

"Yep."

"I meant it, Andy. On the inside as well out."

She knew she was grinning inanely at him. "You look great too."

He smiled back and she could tell he was as entranced and overwhelmed as she was.

Sam quickly looked over his shoulder to check if there was any sign of Ethan before turning back to her. "So, uh, the operation is going OK?"

"Uh… kind of. Hopefully it won't be too much longer."

"I hope not. I think about you every day."

"I think about you too. All the time."

They stared at each other for a long moment. Andy ached to just step forward and brush her lips against his. Just one kiss.

But out of the corner of her eye, she was aware of Ethan walking through the gate from the park, with a sheepish-looking Boo.

"I worry about you," Sam said. "Tell Collins he had better look after you for me, or else."

Nick.

Shit.

How could she have done that to Sam? To them? She suddenly felt sick, and she couldn't look at Sam.

Instead she looked at Ethan and Boo, and realising they were close enough to hear her, she said in a falsely-cheerful Melissa voice, "I think you do need to get that dog to obedience classes though." She was still turned towards Boo – she couldn't quite bring herself to face Sam.

"I'm waiting for my girlfriend to come back," said Sam. "Boo's her dog – she can take her to classes."

"The sooner the better," puffed Ethan. "I'm getting sick of spending all of my time chasing after Boo."

"I was kinda hoping she'd grow out of it but I don't think she will," said Sam.

Andy was looking down at the dog so she wouldn't have to meet Sam's gaze.

"You never know," she mumbled. "Hey, I'd better get going, got to collect the kids, Charlotte will be here any minute. Uh Sam, nice to meet you – Ethan I'll see you tomorrow."

She leaned over and patted Boo. "You too Boo."

Head down, she turned and walked away. She knew Sam was watching her go, she swore she could feel his stare piercing her back. She resisted the temptation to turn around and look at him. She was sure her shame was written all over her face.

_Hey Sam great to see you – by the way, guess what I got up to with Nick?_

As she headed towards Charlotte's car to wait until it was time to get the kids she felt swamped with emotion. On one hand she was so happy to see him. And he said he missed her. He did still love her and she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, despite everything that had happened with them before she went undercover, she still loved him, heart and soul.

But how could she face him after what had happened with Nick? Damn it. She felt so guilty. If only she could turn back the clock. She unlocked the car and slid behind the wheel. She felt like banging her head on it. How could she have been so stupid?

In the meantime, all she could hope was that he hadn't noticed her response when he had mentioned Nick and put two and two together.

* * *

So what the hell was that all about, wondered Sam as he got into his truck after letting Ethan show him the park. One minute she'd been gazing at him like she wanted to throw herself into his arms; the next she could hardly look him in the face. What the hell had changed? What had he said?

God, it had been so good to see her. He knew he shouldn't – he'd wanted to come to the community centre as soon as he'd realised she was Melissa. He knew it was stupid, and they could put yet another UC op at risk.

But this was Andy, the love of his life, and he had to see her. All his doubts about what he was doing evaporated the minute she walked across that parking lot towards him. He'd fought the overwhelming urge to pull her to him and give her five months worth of kisses then and there.

Damn, she looked good. A little thin, and a bit tired, but as stunningly gorgeous as ever. And she'd looked so delighted to see him.

He was so pleased Boo had taken off so he and Andy had had the chance to talk – albeit briefly – without Ethan there. But why had she suddenly looked so uncomfortable? He'd been so busy drowning in her gaze he couldn't recall what he had said to set her on edge.

OK, so that should be it for now, he thought, starting the truck but not putting it into gear because a blonde woman was getting out of a taxi right behind him. He'd seen Andy, he should leave things be until Project Dakota was over. It would not be a good idea to turn up here again. But still... if he could manage to finish work early, like he had today, he could come along using running together as an excuse, and try to find a moment to talk to her again. He could see if she still seemed uncomfortable around him, and he could try to find out what the hell was wrong.

Sam checked his rear view mirror – the taxi and the woman were gone. He backed out of the space and drove to the parking lot exit. Nobody needed to know he was seeing Andy, he thought as he waited for a gap in the traffic. He wouldn't put the op in jeopardy. He just needed to know what was troubling her.

He pulled out on to the road, joining in the traffic until he got to the next side street, where he took a right, did a U turn and pulled up alongside the kerb, leaving the engine idling.

Having seen her just now, so briefly, made him hungry for more. He wanted to know where she was living; what she was doing with her days. It was wrong, but he couldn't help himself. He had to at least talk to her again.

Sam sat in the truck, mentally arguing with himself, for another five minutes. He was about to give up and leave, when he saw the silver SUV Andy had got into drive past. Putting his truck in gear, he pulled out of the side street into the traffic, several vehicles behind the SUV. He'd got quite good at tailing cars since becoming a detective, and as he changed lanes, he kept his target in view but stayed well back.

He was quite sure nobody in the SUV would be aware they were being followed.


End file.
